LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


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UutfUi't  h    Vlul(-(|tU|ilt 


THE  STRANGE  CASE  OF 
ERIC  MAROTTE 


GR  ETCH  EN 


The  Strange  Case  of 

Eric  Marotte 

A  Modern-Historical  Problem-Romance  of  Chicago 

By 
JOHN  IRVING  PEARCE,  Jr. 

AUTHOR  OF  "  FROM  WITHIN,"  "  LAST  DAYS  OF  LINCOLN," 
"  HEART'S-BASB  AND  HAWTHORN;  MYRTLE  AND  RUE," 

"  LYRICAL   SKETCHES,"  ETC. 


FRONTISPIECE     IN     COLORS     BY 

CARL  J.  BLENNER 


ILLUSTRATED    BY 

NORMAN  TOLSON 

AND     NUMEROUS     PHOTOGRAPHS 


PUBLISHED    AT   CHICAGO 
NINETEEN    HUNDRED   AND   THIRTEEN 


.  LIBRARY 
UOTVERSITY  OF 
DAVIS 


COPYRIGHT,  1913 
BY  JOHN  IRVING  PEARCE,  JR. 


Alt  Rights  Reserved 


Published  in  November 


PRESS  AND  BINDERY  OF 

P.  F.  PETTIBONE  &  COMPANY 
CHICAGO,  ILL. 


that  undying  better  part 
Which  sleeps  in  every  human  heart, 
Till  bid  to  wake,  and  hark  and  look, 
I  dedicate  this  human  book. 


What  the  Book  Contains: 

CHAPTBB  PAOK 

I.    PROLOGUE   .     .      .     .     .  •  ,  .     .  13 

II.    EARLY  CHICAGO  DAYS 20 

III.  JIM  AND  JEMIMA      .      .      .      .      .  35 

IV.  THE  FOUNDLING      .     .      .      ,;     .  54 
V.    IN  WHICH  LIFE  CHANGES  ITS  ASPECT 

TO  SEVERAL  PERSONS       .     .      .  68 

VI.    THE  QUARREL    .      '.'..-.      .      .  77 

VII.  "LITTLE  SUNSHINE" 93 

VIII.  *  TOOLS  RUSH  IN  WHERE  ANGELS  FEAR 

To  TREAD'.'    ....      .      .      .104 

IX.  "LOVE'S  YOUNG  DREAM"      ...  141 
X.  "THE  LEOPARD  AND  His  SPOTS"— 

HOPE'S  VALEDICTORY       ...  156 
XI.    BILL  STUBBS  COMMITS  THE  UNPAR 
DONABLE  SIN 168 

XII.  "ABSENCE  MAKES  THE  HEART  GROW 

FONDER"       .      ...     .      .     .      .  194 

XIII.  ENTRE'NOUS     .        ...       ||     .  206 

XIV.  HOME  AGAIN:— A  COLLOQUIAL  DIS 

SERTATION  ON  THE  RACE  PROBLEM  226 

XV.    THE  BUM .  253 

XVI.    THE  BUM'S  LONG  TALE  OF  His  RE 
MARKABLE  ADVENTURE     .     .     .  261 

XVII.    OSTRACISED       .      ....      ,     .  296 

XVIII.    VISITORS  AND  CONVERGING  LINES    .  316 

XIX.    THE  DENOUEMENT  .      ....  332 

XX.    PERORATION  359 


ORIGIN  OF  PLATES 

COVER  DESIGN    ....          By  NORMAN  TOLSON 
FRONTISPIECE  in  Colors     .        .  ByCARLj.BLENNER 

ILLUSTRATED  from  Charcoal  Drawings  By  NORMAN  TOLSON 

PHOTOGRAPHS     By  Courtesy  of  EDWARD  C.  WENTWORTH, 
JAMES  W.  HEDENBERG  and  S.  LEONARD  BOYCE 


Captions  of  Illustrations 

Gretchen Frontispiece 

PACING  PAGE 

Jemima 48 

"Stubbs,  in  a  towering  rage,  wheeled  on  him  and  de 
liberately  struck  him  in  the  face"  .  .  .  .  90 

A  Characteristic  Bit  of  Goose  Island      ....      108 
"For  a  single  dramatic  second  he  stood  erect"      .        .      128 

1  'And  upon  her  face  was  that  dreaming  glory  of  per 
fect  peace  and  love  that  passeth  understanding"  192 

"Neath  the  Elms  of  Dear  Old  Yale"      .....      198 

"The  light  from  the  candles  on  the  table  threw  the 
faces  of  those  seated  around  it  into  a  weird,  Rem 
brandt-like  relief  in  chiaroscuro"  .  .  .  .216 

View  taken  from  the  corner  of  Michigan  Avenue  and 
Madison  Street,  Chicago,  in  1860,  showing  lake  front 
and  basin,  and  original  Central  Station  .  .  .298 

View  taken  from  Chicago  Court  House,  in  1859,  looking 
southwest  and  showing  the  corner  of  La  Salle  and 
Washington  Streets 342 


CHAPTER  I. 


PROLOGUE 

;PON  a  certain  isolated  street  whose 
name  is  still  considered  too  unim 
portant  to  be  lettered  upon  the 
scattered  lamp-posts  that  lend  by 
night  a  semi-luminosity  to  its  fore 
shortened  length ; — darkly  over 
towered  by  the  elevators,  ware 
houses,  breweries,  tanneries,  foundries,  rolling 
mills,  planing  mills  and  other  prosaic  labor 
treadmills  that  give  to  "  Goose  Island, "  in 
the  City  of  Chicago,  a  mercenary  excuse  for  its 
existence,  shunned  as  it  is  by  all  of  nature's 
charms;  there  once  stood  a  simple  little  brick 
cottage  fit  only  for  the  lowly  home  of  one  who 
toiled  with  hardened  hands. 

Here  where  for  the  bird-songs  and  whirring 
wings  and  the  various  melodies  of  nature  were 
substituted  the  constant  rumbling  of  freight- 
cars,  the  swift,  short  flight  of  the  switch-engines 
as  they  shunted  and  banged  the  full  and  empty 
box  cars  and  "  gondolas "  to  their  proper  sta 
tions  and  the  whistle  and  swash  of  the  infinites 
imal  tug-boats  as  they  pulled  and  backed  the 
leviathan  vessels  through  the  draws. of  the  di- 

13 


14  ERIC  MAROTTE 

lapidated  bridges  and  into  the  slips  of  their 
temporary  moorings;  and  where  the  sunny  skies 
and  balmy  breezes  of  the  fields  and  woodland 
had  been  metamorphosed  by  a  cynical  commer 
cialism  into  an  atmosphere  hazy  with  never- 
ceasing  smoke  from  restless  chimneys,  through 
which  the  sun  itself  could  scarcely  pierce,  and 
an  air  redolent  of  tanbark,  oil,  brewery  slops 
and  river  sewage  made  only  more  noxious  to 
the  nostrils  by  each  gust  of  wind,  that  brought  a 
cloud  of  whirling  dust  from  the  many  indus 
tries  instead  of  a  blessed  respite  from  the  heat; 
here,  this  humble  cot  stood  out  in  extravagant 
relief,  a  veritable  oasis  of  cleanliness  and  ver 
dure,  flanked  as  it  was  by  a  miniature  garden 
of  immaculate  green  filled  with  a  profusion  of 
vegetables  and  old-fashioned  flowers  and  half 
hidden  behind  luxuriant  vines  from  which 
bright  roses  nodded  their  friendly  and  fragrant 
welcome  to  the  unsuspecting  passer-by. 

To  one  who  came  suddenly  upon  it  the  effect 
was  as  startling  as  if  a  scintillating  star  had 
dropped  abruptly  from  a  cloudy  sky. 

The  house,  externally  and  internally,  was 
spick  and  span  with  freshest  paint  and  paper; 
not  a  board  was  loose  or  out  of  place  in  the 
whole  length  of  the  newly  whitewashed  fence 
that  protected  it  on  every  side;  the  windows 
shone  like  polished  diamonds;  and  each  book, 


PROLOGUE  15 

each  article  of  furniture,  bedding,  napery  and 
tableware,  gave  evidence  in  its  condition  and 
methodical  arrangement  of  a  critical  eye  and 
an  indefatigable  energy  wedded  to  tireless 
hands. 

And  this  little  "  Paradise  Regained "  that 
put  to  shame  its  unaesthetic  neighbors  and  lay 
like  a  gem  of  great  price  in  a  setting  of  rough, 
unfinished  iron,  was  owned  and  beautified  and 
occupied,  not  by  an  exiled  artist,  an  eccentric 
scion  of  some  highly  cultured  family,  the  man 
aging  official  of  some  adjacent  business  concern, 
or  even  some  proprietor  of  such  concern  him 
self  ;  but,  strangest  of  all,  by  two  Negroes — one 
a  stalwart  man  of  thirty  of  jetty  Ethiopian 
blackness;  the  other,  his  wife,  an  Octoroon  of 
more  tender  years,  whose  graceful  form  and 
unusually  pure  Circassian-shaped  features  aug 
mented  a  carriage  and  manner  at  once  modest 
and  refined,  and  whose  height  was  barely  ex 
ceeded  by  that  of  her  husband. 

Such  a  peculiar  and  astounding  combination 
of  personalities  and  environments  would  seem 
so  to  transcend  all  reason  and  experience,  and 
the  characters  and  events  which  grew  about  and 
led  to  and  from  them  were  so  strikingly  uncon 
ventional  and  pathetic  and  prolific  of  so  much 
poetic  justice,  that  the  writer  can  not  refrain 
from  an  endeavor  to  record  them,  simply  and 


16  ERIC  MAROTTE 

truly,  as  they  lived  and  came  to  pass, — sincere 
in  his  belief  that  the  story  of  such  unusual  hap 
penings  to  flesh  and  blood  persons  as  this  book 
relates,  possesses,  from  the  very  fact  of  its 
fidelity  to  human  nature,  an  additional  interest 
for  all  who  may  read  it. 

One  sultry  evening  towards  the  end  of  Sep 
tember  in  the  year  188 — ,  just  as  a  loud,  sharp 
steam- whistle  announced  the  closing  of  the  long 
day's  monotonous  drudgery  in  the  numerous 
abodes  of  toil,  and  the  thousands  of  grimy  and 
dusty  men  and  boys  and  clean  girls  and  women 
began  to  pour  forth  from  the  doorways  like 
bees  from  their  hives,  each  one  in  silent  pre 
occupation  or  noisy  exuberance  as  suited  the 
individual  disposition  or  circumstance;  the  sin 
gle  human  stream  from  each  direction  rapidly 
merging  into  a  larger  and  more  general  one 
along  the  main  cross-town  thoroughfares  and 
then  filtering  out,  little  by  little,  on  either  side 
as  each  worker  quitted  the  homogeneous  throng 
to  take  his  or  her  particular  way  to  home  and 
supper;  a  horse  and  wagon  rounded  the  corner 
into  the  obscure  street  leading  to  this  flower- 
bedecked  cottage,  and  made  rapidly  towards 
its  awaiting  comforts. 

The  horse  spurned  the  pavement  with  light 
hoofs  and  a  high  head,  and  a  gait  which  bespoke 
the  thoroughbred ;  but  as  he  drew  closer  one  be- 


PROLOGUE  17 

came  conscious  of  a  keen  disappointment  in  his 
color,  which  was  a  pronounced  shade  of  what 
is  commonly  called  "dirty  white, " — his  other 
wise  beautiful  appearance  being  marred  by 
thousands  of  unsightly,  brownish-black  spots 
completely  covering  him  from  nose  to  tail. 

The  wagon  was  of  the  style  once  widely 
known  as  the  "democrat  wagon"  and,  though 
evidently  but  recently  washed,  showed  the  in 
evitable  splashings  of  the  implements  and  sup 
plies  of  the  whitewashed  and  calciminer's 
trades,  with  which  the  body  of  the  vehicle  was 
filled. 

Checking  speed  only  long  enough  to  clear 
smoothly  the  low  curbing,  the  driver  turned  his 
horse  from  the  street  and  continued  on  across 
an  adjoining  vacant  lot,  to  the  rear  of  the 
house,  where  lay  a  tiny  frame  barn  and  wagon- 
shed.  Here  he  unhitched  the  horse  and,  after 
a  few  minutes  spent  in  rubbing  and  bedding- 
down  and  feeding  him,  gave  him  a  friendly 
pat  on  the  haunch,  backed  the  wagon  into  the 
shed,  locked  both  doors,  and,  followed  by  a 
muffled  whinny  from  the  nag,  whose  nose  was 
deep  in  oats,  passed  with  glad  steps  and  a  beam 
ing  face  through  the  sweet-smelling  garden  to 
the  kitchen  door  of  the  little  house  o'ershaded 
by  a  single  immense,  old  willow  tree. 

And  what  a  welcome  he  received!     0  ye 


18  ERIC  MAEOTTE 

gentlemen  of  wealth  and  culture  who  let  your 
selves  into  your  expensive  and  elaborate  homes 
at  eve  with  keys  that  open  complicated,  burglar- 
proof  locks  which  hold  the  world  at  haughty 
arm's  length,  or  are  ushered  in  by  obsequious 
butlers  or  simpering  maids,  to  meet  the  quer 
ulous  complaints,  the  thoughtless  impatience  or 
vast  indifference  of  pampered  wives  and  daugh 
ters;  what  would  you  not  give  to  know  and  feel 
that  you  would  be  welcomed — and  welcomed 
every  night — not  simply  as  a  "good  provider'1 
or  a  necessary  adjunct  to  some  one  ambitious 
woman's  establishment,  but  lovingly  met  at  the 
door  in  rain  or  shine,  success  or  failure,  by  arms 
that  sought  your  neck,  lips  that  longed  for  the 
touch  of  yours  and  faces  which  blushed  for  very 
happiness  at  sight  of  you  again — met  with  that 
intuitive  prescience  of  your  near  approach,  that 
quick  step,  and  that  unconscious  eagerness  to 
turn  the  handle  of  the  door  before  your  hand 
can  reach  it,  which  prove  you  welcome  for  your 
self  alone! 

And,  ye  young  men  of  humbler  station,  yet 
who  may  still  aspire  to  that  monetary  Elysium 
which  dances  like  an  ignis  fatuus  ever  beyond 
you;  how  blessed  be  your  lot  if  your  wife  or 
family  so  manage  the  household's  affairs  and 
so  order  her  or  their  lives,  that  your  daily 
change  from  working-place  to  home  is  not  the 


PROLOGUE  19 

shedding  of  one  species  of  worry  for  the  putting 
on  of  another,  but  a  transition  from  care  to 
carelessness,  from  strain  to  reaction,  from  doubt 
to  hope ;  so  that  every  night  is  gratefully  looked 
forward  to  as  a  constantly  recurring  and  unfail 
ing  reward  for  patient  effort,  and  you  are  not 
made  to  feel  that  you  are  expected  to  accom 
plish  complete  and  final  success  before  you  can 
hope  to  indulge  in  any  real  happiness  and  re 
gard  at  home! 


CHAPTER  II. 

EARLY  CHICAGO  DAYS 

)  James  Manning  (or  "Honest 
Jim,"  as  he  was  generally  called 
by  both  his  employers  and  his  em 
ployees  as  well  as  by  his  imme 
diate  neighbors)  and  his  wife 
Jemima  this  cozy  cottage  home 
represented  the  savings  of  years  of  rigid  econ 
omy  and  self-denial;  and  not  until  they  had 
paid  off  the  last  penny  of  the  original  mortgage 
on  it  did  they  venture  into  the  gradual  outlay 
which  had  brought  it  to  its  present  perfection, 
contenting  themselves,  up  to  that  hour,  with 
such  improvements  and  embellishing  as  they 
could  compass  with  their  own  strong  arms  and 
never-idle  hands. 

But,  unique  as  was  the  result,  the  chronicle 
of  the  details  of  their  struggles  against  the  vi 
cissitudes  of  fortune,  of  their  frequent  despair- 
ings  and  intermitted  hopes,  of  their  cruel  rebuffs 
and  unexpected  helpings,  all  crowding  one  upon 
another  but  glorified  and  redeemed  from  pro- 
saicness  by  their  abounding  faith  in  themselves 
and  God;  would  savor  too  much  of  the  common 
lot  and  of  "the  short  and  simple  annals  of  the 

20 


EAELY  CHICAGO  DAYS  21 

poor"  to  be  of  importance  here.  It  is  enough 
to  say  that  in  their  case  persistency  and  intelli 
gence,  an  eagerness  to  learn  and  the  humility 
to  do  well  each  succeeding  necessary  thing,  be 
it  never  so  small,  menial  or  monotonous,  that 
came  to  their  hands  to  do,  met  with  a  bright 
final  recompense,  both  mental  and  material, 
the  which  their  well  balanced  minds  and  cheery 
temperaments  and  a  fortunate  freedom  from  ill 
ness  enabled  them  to  retain  undimmed. 

Born  and  raised  in  the  South,  the  son  of 
ex-slave  parents,  Jim  had  led  the  ordinary  life 
of  the  pickaninny  and  the  bare-footed  negro 
boy,  with  nothing  to  particularly  distinguish 
him  from  others  of  like  color  and  conditions, 
until  ten  years,  filled  with  the  same  evanescent 
sorrows  and  lightly  invented,  costless  pleasures 
to  which  the  childhood  of  the  poor  is  heir  the 
world  over,  had  left  their  strengthening  touches 
on  his  sturdy  frame  and  awakening  conscious 
ness  of  strife  upon  his  dawning  mind. 

Jim  had  attended,  previous  to  this,  such 
schools,  and  at  such  times,  as  the  white  author 
ities  then  permitted  black  children  to  enter  and 
the  necessity  of  helping  towards  his  own  sup 
port  allowed,  and  being  a  fairly  apt  scholar  and 
of  an  inquisitive  turn  of  mind,  could  now  read 
and  cipher  and  had  a  smattering  of  the  lower 
English  branches.  He  knew  the  map  of  the 


22  ERIC  MAROTTE 

world  and  its  different  divisions  of  lands  and 
waters,  and  had  a  somewhat  hazy  but  workable 
idea  of  its  countries  and  nations.  Even  this 
much,  in  that  day  of  slow  and  painful  "recon 
struction,"  was  by  many  of  the  Southern  whites 
considered  as  "'too  damned  much  for  a  nigger 
to  know."  He  had  also  acquired  clandestine 
possession  of  a  rather  loose-leafed  and  battered, 
but,  withal,  still  serviceable  copy  of  a  certain 
popular  Southern  school  history  of  the  United 
States,  in  which  classic  volume  either  the  world 
came  to  an  end  in  1861,  or  else  the  history  of 
the  Civil  War  and  the  "lost  cause"  was  glossed 
over,  with  the  confident  belief  of  the  ostrich, 
which,  when  pursued,  hides  its  head  in  the  sands 
of  the  desert  in  the  ingenuous  belief  that  blind 
ing  himself  must  make  equally  blind  his  pur 
suers. 

In  this  way  Jim  formed  the  innocent  opinion 
that  George  Washington  was  quite  a  lofty  char 
acter  and  wholly  unmercenary,  as  a  "  real  south 
ern  gentleman,  sah!"  should  be.  Of  Lincoln 
he  had,  of  course,  heard  many  wonderful  stories 
through  his  own  downtrodden  race,  and  he 
loved  the  memory  of  that  God-like  man.  Over 
the  aforesaid  history  and  a  discarded  Northern 
biography  of  Lincoln,  Jim  often  pored  with  rapt 
interest,  and  wondered  that  every  one  who  read 
such  works  did  not  feel  their  charm  as  did  he. 


EARLY  CHICAGO  DAYS  23 

If  Lincoln  could  know  to-day  what  noble 
pleasure — what  star-like  incentive  to  unselfish 
ambition — the  perusal  of  his  life's  story  has 
given  to  his  posterity,  he  would  deem  it  his  most 
exquisite  appreciation.  Many  men  have  been 
great,  but  few  have  been  both  great  and  good. 
"God  raiseth  up  in  His  own  hour  His  banner 
bearers  true,  His  wondrous  work  to  do." 

Now,  why  a  Negro  should  bother  his  head 
about  patriotism  or  the  history  of  human  great 
ness,  when  he  had  everything  to  lose  and  noth 
ing  to  gain  by  their  study,  in  that  he  must  there 
by  become  discontented  with  his  own  naturally 
humble  sphere  and  vainly  strive  for  another 
which  his  white-in-color-only  neighbors  held  to 
be  sacred  to  themselves  and  their  descendants, 
is  not  easy  to  explain,  except  upon  the  theory 
that  he  was,  possibly,  human.  So  the  Southron 
reader  will  have  to  remain  in  a  certain  measure 
of  ignorance  as  to  what  practical  sense  actuated 
Jim  and  others  of  his  caste  in  their  desire  to 
emulate  in  some  way  the  great  and  good  of 
whom  they  fitfully  heard  or  read. 

In  Jim 's  case,  he  was,  fortunately,  too  young 
to  vote;  so  the  local  politicians,  self -ordained 
scavengers  of  earthly  hope — then  as  now — over 
looked  him  and  held  no  especial  grudge  against 
him  for  aspiring  to  become  an  Dedicated  nig- 
gah,  sah !  ' '  and  vote  the  Eepublican  ticket. 


24  ERIC  MAROTTE 

But,  to  proceed — in  Jim's  tenth  year  there 
came  to  him  his  first  great  grief  and  change  in 
the  death  of  his  father  and  the  emigration  of 
his  mother  to  the  "Nawth";  there  to  seek 
among  strange  faces  a  fancied  escape  from  the 
perpetual  sad  remindings  of  old  scenes  and 
familiar  associations,  and,  incidentally,  a  more 
dependable  subsistence  for  herself  and  child. 
To  Jim  the  journey  was  a  veritable  trip  through 
fairy-land,  to  whose  charm  his  spirits  responded 
with  the  joyous  resiliency  of  expanding  youth. 
After  a  day  and  two  nights  in  the  "  Jim  Crow" 
cars  of  the  South  and  the  day  coach  of  a  North 
ern  railway,  the  twain  arrived  safely  in  Chi 
cago,  then  a  city  of  fatal  architecture,  flimsy 
buildings  and  bottomless  streets;  uncouth,  un 
clean  and  undismayed. 

Jim's  mother  being  entirely  willing  to  work, 
and  a  " perfectly  good"  cook  and  careful  wash 
er-woman,  and  being,  moreover,  both  strong  and 
saving — without  the  Southern  Negroes'  usual 
tendency  to  labor  only  three  or  four  days  in 
each  week  and  then  "play  lady"  or  lie  around 
drunk  until  their  wages  are  gone — ;  had  little 
trouble  in  gradually  finding  more  and  more  pat 
rons.  Many  of  these  who  had  heretofore  had 
to  put  up  with  very  indifferent  work  by  irre 
sponsible  extra-helpers,  appreciated  her  for  her 
sterling  worth  and  honest  ability,  and  soon  she 


EARLY  CHICAGO  DAYS  25 

was  never  without  employment.  Living  at  home 
with  Jim  and  working  out  by  the  day  only,  she 
received  much  higher  pay  than  did  servants 
hired  by  the  month — generally  a  dollar  and  a 
half  a  day  besides  her  noon  meal — and  she  saved 
it.  Expecting  to  suffer  from  actual  want  at 
first,  in  a  part  of  the  country  new  to  her,  she 
was  prepared  to  wage  resistless  battle  against 
fate;  but  such  dire  necessity  never  came,  and 
she  and  her  boy  lived  comfortably  enough  so 
far  as  their  physical  well-being  was  concerned. 

Jim  found  ways  to  turn  an  occasional  honest 
penny  before  and  after  school  hours  and  during 
the  long  summer  vacations,  which  were  not  en 
ervating  with  stagnant  heat  like  those  of  the 
South,  and  she  did  not  take  him  away  from  his 
studies  until  he  had  graduated  from  common 
school,  where  the  Northern  Negroes  had  then, 
as  they  still  have,  the  same  identical  opportu 
nities  for  an  education  as  the  white  children, 
and  without  segregation. 

Though  a  woman  of  no  education  herself  and 
born  in  slavery,  she  had  followed,  not  only  her 
husband's  dying  request,  but  her  own  inclina 
tion  in  carrying  the  burden  so  far  alone,  that 
their  boy  might  reach  at  least  this  height  of 
knowledge — practically  denied  him  in  the  South 
— but  beyond  that  she  felt  she  could  not  go, 
and  he  must  begin  to  act  for  himself  thereafter. 


26  ERIC  MAROTTE 

Jim  promptly  decided  it  was  time  for  him  to  go 
to  work. 

There  are  as  yet  so  few  trades  or  professions 
open  to  the  Negro  even  in  the  North  that  to  Jim 
the  question  of  procuring  employment  was  not 
so  much  a  choice  of  many  lines  of  occupation, 
as  a  shop  to  shop  hunt  for  an  opening  in  some 
one  of  the  few  in  which  the  Negro's  services 
are  accepted ;  and,  after  many  disappointing  re 
fusals,  he  was  finally  taken  on  as  an  apprentice 
by  an  old  colored  man  who  had  followed  for 
years  the  humble  calling  of  calcimining  and 
whitewashing  contractor.  As  these  "arts"  are 
easily  acquired,  Jim  soon  mastered  all  his  em 
ployer  had  to  teach,  and,  adding  plain  painting 
as  an  auxiliary  flourish,  he  one  day  invested  the 
hard-won  earnings  of  himself  and  mother  in  a 
modest  horse  and  wagon  and  shop  outfit  of  his 
own,  and  became  an  independent  contractor.  He 
never  waited  for  work  to  come  to  him,  but  val 
iantly  and  thoroughly  canvassed  the  city  for  it; 
and,  as  he  always  did  a  little  more  and  a  little 
better  work  than  his  contracts  called  for,  he 
kept  every  customer  once  obtained,  and  the 
business  grew  till  he  was .  seldom  disengaged 
and  often  had  to  employ  assistants  as  the  scope 
of  his  undertakings  enlarged. 

In  the  course  of  time  his  mother  passed  away, 
leaving  him  as  an  inheritance  her  blessing  ancf 


EARLY  CHICAGO  DAYS  27 

courageous  example,  together  with  the  few  hun 
dreds  of  dollars  which  represented  the  result 
of  her  whole  free-lifetime  of  simple  industry 
and  firm  determination ;  and  Jim  was  left  wholly 
alone  in  the  world. 

He  had  never  associated  to  any  great  extent 
with  other  Negroes,  finding  in  the  society  of  his 
cheerful  mother  and  the  companionship  of  books 
all  the  relaxation  and  amusement  he  required; 
and  her  departure  left  him  almost  a  recluse, 
and  awakened  in  him  a  natural  desire  for  social 
intercourse  with  the  outside  world — and  that  of 
the  black  man  being  one  of  the  most  gregarious 
of  races,  bound  together  by  the  common  ties 
of  long  years  of  former  abject  slavery,  as  yet 
unremote,  and  a  community  of  color  not  to  be 
denied,  new  acquaintances  were  readily  formed 
and  new  friendships  easily  cemented.  But  hab 
its  of  thoughtfulness  and  silent  musing  are  not 
to  be  shaken  off  like  a  glove,  and  he  would 
often,  after  the  day's  toil,  wander  the  streets 
until  far  into  the  night,  peopling  its  shadowy 
stillness  with  the  bright  visions  and  figures  of 
his  imagination  and  wondering  over  the  prob 
able  lives  and  passions  of  the  sleeping  occupants 
of  the  darkened  houses  and  of  the  few  belated 
pedestrians  whom  he  passed.  The  rude  gal 
lantry  and  adventurous  spirit  of  some  ancestor 
of  a  long-forgotten  generation  of  Africans  trans- 


28  ERIC  MAROTTE 

mitted  through  centuries  of  ostensible  eclipse, 
reappeared  in  him  in  the  mild  atavism  of  these 
nocturnal  rambles. 

It  was  an  ever-present  obsession  of  his  that, 
if  Bomance  should  ever  touch  with  her  magic 
wand  his  solitary,  plebeian  lot,  she  must  come 
to  him  under  the  transporting  moon,  the  star 
lit  sky  or  the  overcast  heavens  of  some  such 
night  as  those  in  which  he  walked  alone  with 
Nature  and  his  own  heart's  speculations. 

At  the  period  of  which  I  write,  the  principal 
Negro  settlement  of  Chicago  lay  from  State 
street  west  to  the  Chicago  Kiver's  south  branch 
and  between  Jackson  and  Twelfth  street,  where 
were  domiciled  also  the  very  poorest  of  the  for 
eign  population,  largely  Irish,  the  other,  diver 
sified,  nationalities  not  having  immigrated  to 
that  city  in  any  such  numbers  as  they  did  later 
on.  This  district  was  also  the  "Ghetto"  of  that 
day,  with  numerous  little  Hebrew  shops,  many 
of  the  proprietors  of  which,  or  their  descendants, 
are  now  among  Chicago 's  leading  merchants  and 
manufacturers. 

The  remarkable  transformation  into  its  pres 
ent  aspect  and  conditions  was  due  to  three  radi 
cal  events.  First,  the  Great  Fire  of  1871  burnt 
to  the  ground  every  building  on  the  South  side 
north  of  Harrison  street  and  east  of  the  river; 
then  the  second  enormous  conflagration,  of  1874, 


EARLY  CHICAGO  DAYS  -29 

in  itself  one  of  the  famous  fires  of  modern  times, 
starting  almost  at  the  line  where  that  of  1871 
left  off  on  the  south,  cleaned  out  about  every 
thing  of  any  consequence  in  the  poverty-stricken 
neighborhood  south  of  Harrison  street  and  west 
of  State  to  Twelfth  street,  before  mentioned; 
and  finally  the  railroads,  seeing  their  opportu 
nity  thus  thrust  upon  them  by  fate,  bought  out 
a  vast  number  of  the  property  owners  there. 
And  so  the  periodical  removals  and  changing 
character  of  its  resident  population  has  gone  on 
and  on,  till  now  a  few  Greeks,  Italians  and  bums, 
the  transients  and  the  disreputables,  are  the 
only  stragglers  left — the  latter  class,  by  the 
way,  having  been  banished  in  a  body  by  an  edict 
of  the  City  Fathers  to  the  Twenty-second  street 
"  red-light "  district  several  years  ago  to  make 
way  for  the  entering  wedge  of  the  present  great 
printing  and  office  buildings  which  reduce  its 
narrow  streets  to  dark  canyons  of  commerce. 

The  geographical  line  of  demarcation  be 
tween  the  rich  and  the  poor,  the  educated  and 
the  ignorant,  on  what  is  known  as  the  South 
Side  of  the  city,  was  just  as  clearly  and  jealously 
drawn  then  as  now;  and,  while  everything  west 
of  State  street  was  characteristic  of  poverty  and 
depravity  and  the  slums,  Michigan  and  Wabash 
avenues  (and  later  Prairie,  Indiana  and  Calu 
met  avenues)  and  the  side  streets  east  of  State 


30  ERIC  MAROTTE 

street,  were  lined  with  the  palatial  homes  of 
the  then-established  families  and  the  nouveau 
riche  of  the  time,  even  as  far  north  as  Randolph 
street.  The  Illinois  Central  Railway  was  prac 
tically  out  in  the  lake,  its  tracks  laid  on  a  break 
water  of  piling,  between  which  and  the  shore 
line  east  of  Michigan  avenue  lay  a  long  narrow 
basin  much  in  vogue  with  those  timid  oarsmen 
who  feared  to  attempt  the  rougher  surface  of 
the  lake  beyond.  This  basin  was  abruptly  and 
completely  filled  up  in  1872  by  dumpings  of  the 
debris  from  the  ruins  of  the  Great  Fire. 

The  Original  Town  of  Chicago  was  built  on 
a  swamp.  Before  the  down-town  streets  were 
raised  and  repaved  and  the  buildings  gradually 
jack-screwed  up  some  twenty  feet  to  the  present 
datum,  the  road-beds  were  impassable  in  many 
places,  with  ' '  No  Bottom  Here ' '  signs  stuck  up 
on  the  dangerous  spots. 

Horses  frequently  went  down  to  their  bellies 
in  the  thick  mud,  and  had  to  be  extricated  by 
placing  timbers  under  them  and  prying  them 
loose.  As  each  building  was  raised,  a  temporary 
elevated  board  sidewalk  was  erected,  in  front 
of  that  particular  building  only,  with  wooden 
steps  leading  up  to  it  from  either  side;  so  that 
a  walk  in  any  direction  consisted  of  an  irregu 
lar  series  of  alternative  ups  and  downs  nearly 
doubling  the  distance  traversed;  but  most  of 


EABLY  CHICAGO  DAYS  31 

the  population  was  young  and  didn't  mind  the 
involuntary  exercises  entailed. 

At  the  era  here  indicated,  Thirty-ninth 
street  on  the  south,  Western  avenue  on  the 
west  and  Fullerton  avenue  on  the  north,  were 
the  outward  limits  of  the  then  incorporated 
city,  recently  extended;  and  public  opinion 
was  sarcastically  skeptical  of  the  likelihood 
of  such  immense  and  sparsely  settled  regions 
of  farms,  woods,  swamps  and  cabbage  patches 
as  these  far-flung  boundaries  encircled,  ever 
being  filled  up  with  houses  and  inhabited 
by  man.  The  l '  funny  men ' '  cracked  jokes  about 
it  both  on  and  off  the  stage  and  in  the  daily 
papers,  and  one  particular  enthusiast  who  ven 
tured  to  prophesy  that  Chicago  would  grow  to 
a  population  of  a  million  souls  during  the  life 
time  of  those  present,  was  seriously  believed  to 
be  insane. 

What  street  cars  then  existed  (and  against 
which  the  livery  stable  men  were  all  up  in  arms, 
saying  they  were  ruining  their  business)  were 
propelled  by  the  festive  horse  or  philosophical 
mule — temporarily  superseded  at  one  date  by  di 
minutive  broncos  in  pairs — at  a  speed  in  winter, 
equivalent,  on  an  average,  to  that  of  a  good, 
swift  walker.  And  in  winter,  too,  the  passen 
gers  were  kept  from  freezing  in  the  entirely 
unheated  cars  by  covering  their  floors  to  the 


32  ERIC  MAROTTE 

depths  of  two  feet  with  nice,  clean  hay  (after 
ward  utilized  for  horse-bedding)  which  they 
were  at  liberty  to  fight  for  and  to  wind  about 
their  pedal  extremities  to  prevent  frost-bites. 
It  was  no  uncommon  sight  to  see  even  men  with 
shawls  over  their  laps  or  around  their  shoulders, 
like  travelers  in  the  railway  coaches  in  Eng 
land  and  on  the  Continent;  and  those  who  were 
too  poor,  too  proud,  or  too  athletic  to  carry 
shawls,  sat  on  their  hands  to  keep  them  from 
numbing  ( and  looked  their  envy  at  the  ladies, 
who  had  but  to  transfer  their  wraps  from  their 
shoulders  to  their  knees,  and  vice  versa,  to  be 
in  full  feather  for  either  riding  or  walking. 
Sometimes  it  was  even  too  chilly  for  swearing; 
and  the  only  place  in  which  to  seek  the  con- 
solating  warmth  of  a  "  smoke "  was  on  the  ex 
posed  front  platform  of  the  rocking  ark,  where 
one  could  listen  to  the  more-calloused  driver 
cursing  his  slipping  and  floundering  "  Bucepha 
lus"  and  "  Pegasus. " 

In  the  frequent  heavy  snow-storms  of  the 
cold  weather  a  liberal  supply  of  brooms  and 
snow-shovels  formed  a  part  of  the  equipment  of 
every  car;  and  the  men  passengers  were  ex 
pected  to,  and  did,  get  out  and  shovel  a  path 
for  the  horses  whenever  the  car  got  snowbound 
in  a  drift,  the  conductor  obligingly  ceasing  beat 
ing  his  arms  across  his  chest  long  enough  to 


EARLY  CHICAGO  DAYS  33 

brush  off  the  snow  from  their  shoulders  and 
boots  as  each  of  them  re-entered  the  car.  Upon 
which  occasion  their  sedentary  co-travelers  re 
ceived  them  with  all  the  respect  and  admiration 
now  accorded  the  sun-browned  athlete  with  the 
golf -bag,  and  anxiously  enquired  of  them  how 
much  further  they  thought  the  car  could  go  be 
fore  it  struck  another  drift  and  the  other  fel 
lows'  turns  would  come  to  hop  out  and  clear 
the  track  for  the  happy  street  car  company. 
Though  no  heat  was  furnished  of  any  kind  by 
the  local  transit  companies,  of  which  there  was 
one  on  each  of  the  three  sides  of  the  river,  no 
one,  even  when  it  was  colder  inside  than  outside 
the  cars,  ever  thought  of  demanding  that  they 
put  in  car-stoves;  but,  when  any  victim  became 
so  numb  as  to  be  in  real  danger  of  "  freezing 
stiff, "  he  dropped  off  and  walked  or  ran  to 
start  his  blood  in  circulation  again,  catching 
his  car  further  along  when  he  felt  better. 

Oh!  those  were  the  good,  old  halcyon  days 
— for  Chicago's  street  railway  magnates,  God 
b 'em ! 

All  that  remained  in  1900  to  link  the  memory 
with  this  glorious  regime  of  past  enterprise  and 
public-spiritedness  in  our  quasi-public  corpora 
tions,  was  the  nightly  apparition,  seen  at  about 
two  A.  M.,  of  the  mock-legal,  abbreviated  ghost- 
cars,  those  ghastly  visitants  from  the  grave- 


34  ERIC  MAROTTE 

yard  of  greed  that  slowly  glided  and  bumped 
over  certain  long-unused  tracks  of  the  down 
town  and  a  few  other  districts — lost  and  wan 
dering  haunts  going  from  somewhere  to  no 
where  and  back  again,  collecting  no  fares,  and 
carrying  no  passengers  but  their  superannuated 
drivers  and  conductors,  who  were  apparently 
so  superstitious  of  the  never-cleaned  and  cav 
ernous  vehicles  that  they  never  were  seen  to 
pass  inside  of  them,  but  perched  on  the  dilapi 
dated,  swaying  platforms,  fore  and  aft,  through 
thunder  and  lightning,  storm  and  hail,  snow 
and  heat,  fair  weather  and  foul,  like  gaunt, 
dark  birds  of  ill-omen,  guarding  the  sacred 
rights  of  the  franchise  lords — perhaps  within 
the  letter  of  the  law,  but  far  outside  the  pale  of 
its  spirit  and  meaning. 

They  were  the  Eip  Van  Winkles  of  trans 
portation  conveyances;  as  old  and  as  wonder 
fully  constructed  as  "the  deacons  celebrated 
one-hoss  shay"  and  far  more  lasting. 

Jim  and,  before  her  death,  his  mother  were 
in,  but  not  of,  the  Negro  quarter;  and  in  his 
aimless  evening  walks  his  innate  love  of  the 
beautiful  frequently  led  the  former  towards 
Lake  Michigan  with  its  ever-changing  moods, 
and  through  the  better  residence  portions  of 
the  South  side. 


CHAPTER  III. 

JIM  AND  JEMIMA 

NE  cheerless,  bleak  November 
night,  when  the  pavements  and 
sidewalks  were  slippery  in  the 
well-trodden  places  from  the 
first  heavy  snowfall,  which  the 
quickly  following  cold  north  wind  had  con 
gealed  and  held  intact  even  in  the  traffic-filled 
streets  of ,  the  city,  and  when  the  stars  blinked 
softly  in  a  cloud-tracked,  moonless  sky;  Jim, 
walking  along  rather  more  briskly  than  was 
his  wont,  in  order  to  breast  the  stinging 
blasts,  passed  northward .  and  homeward  along 
Wabash  avenue.  The  hour  was  late  and  the 
street  nearly  deserted,  those  whom  duty  or 
pleasure  called  without,  hurrying  past  un 
mindful  of  his  presence,  slipping  on  the  ice, 
leaping  through  the  drifts  in  an  effort  to  land 
their  feet  in  the  holes  made  by  earlier  pedestri 
ans  (in  which  effort  they  generally  and  sig 
nally  failed — to  the  delight  of  the  lookers-on) ; 
and  damning  old  Boreas  and  all  his  wintry 
tribe. 

Nearing  the  corner  of  Eldridge  court,  Jim 
bent  his  head  to  the  counter  blast  roaring  up 

35 


36  ERIC  MAROTTB 

from  the  lake,  and,  bracing  his  shoulders  to 
the  double  assault  of  the  storm  king,  broke  for 
the  crossing,  on  the  run. 

Just  as  he  reached  the  farther  corner,  half 
blinded  by  the  eddying,  cutting  snow  and  sleet, 
someone  brushed  past  him  going  hurriedly 
towards  the  south,  and,  looking  around  quickly, 
he  saw  in  the  dim  light  the  figure  of  a  young 
girl.  She  was  poorly  and  thinly  clad,  the  wind 
now  whirling  her  scanty  skirts  high  above  her 
knees  and  now  blowing  them  tightly  around 
her  legs  behind,  where  they  sped  her  onward 
like  a  sail. 

He  had  scarcely  time  to  note  the  frightened 
movements  of  her  body  and  her  evident  fear  of 
pursuit,  before  he  was  jostled  by  two  men  who, 
crowding  by  him  with  an  oath  and  some  semi- 
intelligible,  slighting  remark  about  "plucking 
the  pretty  snow-drop  ahead, ' '  followed  after  her. 
Stepping  to  the  curb  to  avoid  the  glare  of  the 
street  lamps  so  he  could  look  beyond  the  men, 
he  saw  the  girl  give  one  terrified  backward 
glance  and  then  commence  running.  At  this  the 
men  increased  their  own  pace,  with  so  sure  an 
indication  of  their  intention  of  overtaking  her 
that  Jim  hesitated  no  longer,  but  darted  to  the 
opposite  side  of  the  street  and,  unnoticed  in 
the  darkness  and  storm  and  unsuspected  by  the 
two  men  in  their  preoccupation,  gained  rapidly 


JIM  AND  JEMIMA  37 

upon  them  and  was  soon  trailing  them  directly 
opposite  but  just  behind  their  line  of  vision. 

^The  men  worked  closer  and  closer  to  their 
flying  prey,  Jim  in  the  meanwhile  growing  hot 
and  cold  by  turns;  when,  at  the  end  of  the  sec 
ond  block,  the  poor  girl,  either  from  the  iciness 
of  the  pavement  or  ^because  of  her  excessive 
fright,  lost  her  footing  and  fell,  striking  her 
head  against  an  iron-fence  railing.  As  she  at 
tempted  to  rise,  half  stunned,  one  of  her  pursu 
ers  reached  her  side,  and  taking  her  by  the 
shoulders,  pushed  her  down  again  upon  her  back 
and  held  her  t there.  The  other  marauder,  who 
was  the  shorter  of  the  two,  stooped  low  and, 
grasping  her  feet,  raised  them  in  the  air.  Pull 
ing  both, her  dress-skirt  and  woolen  underskirt 
up  above  her  waist,  he  threw  them  over  her 
head,  and  his  companion  held  them  tight  against 
her  mouth  to  stifle  her  cries  for  help.  The  two 
then  essayed  to  lift  her  bodily  from  the  ground ; 
but,  driven  to  desperation,  she  kicked  and  strug 
gled  so  fiercely  that  she  broke  the  short  man's 
hold  on  one  of  her  ankles;  and,  in  his  sudden 
snatch  to  regain  it,  he  over-balanced  and  tum 
bled,  the  heel  of  her  shoe  shod  with  a  skate- 
iron  hitting  him  squarely  on  the  temple  as  he 
went  down. 

All  this  transpired  in  the  space  of  a  few 
seconds  and  before  Jim  could  recover  from  that 


38  ERIC  MAROTTE 

strange  and  benumbing  mental  trance  with 
which  a  sudden  mental  shock  ties  in  impotency 
the  hands  and  feet  until  the  paralyzed  blood 
revives  and  rushes  again  through  its  proper 
channels.  But  before  the  fallen  man,  rubbing 
his  head  and  cursing  with  pain,  could  get  up, 
Jim  had  swung  across  the  street  automatically, 
and  attacked  him  from  the  rear,  delivering  a 
kick  on  his  jaw  that  dropped  him  like  a  fat 
steer.  He  lay  there  senseless  and  unmoving. 
Turning  instantly  to  meet  the  other  villain,  who 
had  partly  let  go  of  the  girl  to  defend  himself 
against  this  unexpected  succorer,  he  grappled 
him  with  the  strength  and  fury  of  a  madman, 
and  boy  as  he  was,  and  much  the  lighter  of  the 
two  combatants,  was  fast  reducing  his  adver 
sary  to  sorry  straits,  when  the  latter  drew  a 
revolver  from  the  outside  pocket  of  his  over 
coat  and,  unable  to  take  aim,  fired  point-blank 
at  Jim;  then  wheeled  to  the  left,  stumbled  over 
the  form  of  the  girl,  righted  himself  by  a  su 
preme  exertion  and  ran. 

Blinded  by  the  flash  and  powder  of  the  gun 
at  so  short  a  range  and  exhausted  and  stupefied 
by  the  terrific  contact  of  the  struggle  and  its 
sudden  ending,  Jim  reeled  against  a  tree,  and 
clung  there  dazed,  until  his  clearing  brain  began 
to  perceive  his  surroundings — first,  as  in  a  haze 
and  then  more  distinctly,  but  without  power 


JIM  AND  JEMIMA  39 

to  associate  the  present  moment  with  those  just 
passed.  On  coming  completely  to  his  senses 
he  was  conscious  of  his  left  hand  instinctively 
trying  to  brush  away  something  from  his  face 
and  shirt-front,  and,  holding  it  to  the  light,  he 
found  it  covered  with  blood.  He  wondered 
whose  blood  it  was  until  he  discovered  it  was 
still  trickling  from  a  glancing  gun-shot  wound 
on  his  own  forehead.  Fumbling  in  his  pockets, 
he  extracted  his  handkerchief  and  bound  it 
about  his  head,  and  making  up  his  mind  he 
could  not  be  seriously  hurt  as  his  hands  and 
feet  still  obeyed  his  will,  he  picked  up  the  re 
volver,  which  his  last  antagonist  had  dropped 
when  he  discharged  it,  and  held  it  in  readiness 
to  repulse  any  assault  from  the  other  man, 
whom  he  last  remembered  as  lying  senseless  on 
the  frozen  grass.  But  he  was  gone,  having  un 
doubtedly  "come  to"  in  time  to  choose  discre 
tion  as  the  better  part  of  valor. 

So,  seeing  no  sign  of  either  of  his  vanquished 
foes,  Jim  looked  around  as  sharply  as  he  could, 
in  his  present  plight,  for  the  girl  he  had  de 
fended.  He  finally  found  her  crawling  on  her 
hands  and  knees  towards  another  tree  some 
three  hundred  feet  away,  crying  ,and  talking  to 
herself  incoherently.  When  he  approached  her 
she  had  reached  the  tree ;  and  she  tried  to  hide 
behind  it,  as  though  she  thought  him  one  of 


40  ERIC  MAROTTE 

her  assailants.  It  was  several  minutes  before  he 
was  able  to  pacify  and  reassure  her  sufficiently 
to  induce  her  to  let  him  touch  her.  But  upon 
observing  his  bandaged  forehead  and  blood 
stained  face  and  clothes,  she  seemed  to  recover 
rapidly  from  her  delirious  state;  and  he  lifted 
her  into  an  upright  position  and -supported  her 
wavering  steps  to  the  nearest  lamp-post's  light. 
(As  usual,  not  a  policeman  was  in  sight;  and 
the  sound  of  the  pistol  shot  was  drowned  in  the 
roar  of  the  gale  and  excited  no  attention  from 
other  citizens.) 

Here  he  was  enabled  for  the  first  time  to 
look  at  her  closely,  and  he  was  startled  by  the 
beauty  and  graceful  outlines  of  her  youthful 
face  and  figure,  which  were  strongly  apparent 
in  spite  of  her  terrible  experience  and  disar 
ranged,  shabby  clothes.  One  of  her  stockings 
was  down  and  the  heel  broken  from  a  shoe,  and 
her  dress-skirt  was  nearly  torn  from  her  body. 
Her  hat  was  gone  and  her  luxuriant  black  hair 
streamed  in  the  wind,  alternately  revealing  and 
hiding  her  pale  countenance.  Commiserating 
her  embarrassed  shrinking  from  his  gaze,  Jim 
slipped  off  his  overcoat,  and,  wrapping  it  closely 
about  her  shivering  shape,  asked  her  "How  far 
it  was  to  her  home;  or  where  she  wished  him 
to  take  her."  It  appeared  from  the  story  she 
voluntarily  told  to  him,  that  she  lived  far  over 


JIM  AND  JEMIMA  41 

on  the  West  side  with  a  dressmaker  for  whom 
she  worked,  and  had  been  sent  out  that  night 
to  deliver  a  package  near  Michigan  avenue  and 
Thirteenth  street.  She  had  some  difficulty  in 
locating  the  right  person  to  whom  to  deliver 
the  package,  and  had  been  further  delayed  while 
its  recipient  tried  on  and  criticised  the  garments 
it  contained;  so  it  was  quite  late  before  she 
could  start  back.  That,  becoming  confused  by 
the  darkness  and  the  unfamiliar  streets,  she 
had  stopped  to  ask  her  way  of  the  two  men; 
and  they,  having  purposely  misdirected  her, 
turned  about  and  followed  along  after  her;  when 
she  became  thoroughly  alarmed  and  ran  des 
perately  ahead,  caring  not  which  way  she  went 
so  long  as  she  might  succeed  in  shaking  them 
off. 

She  had  no  friends  or  acquaintances  living 
on  the  South  side,  it  was  already  past  one 
o'clock  in  the  morning  and  she  was  trembling 
from  the  reaction  of  her  exciting  escape  and 
chilled  with  the  cold.  It  was  imperative,  there 
fore,  to  act  promptly;  and  when  Jim  proposed 
to  take  her  to  his  own  home  for  the  night,  she 
gave  him  one  long,  penetrating  look  and  said, 
"Yes;  she  could  trust  him  and  vwould  go  with 
him,  especially  since  he  needed  immediate  at 
tention  for  his  own  injured  head."  Their  walk 
was  a  hard  and  dreary  one,  but,  with  frequent 


42  ERIC  MAROTTE 

stops  to  let  her  rest,  they  shortly  reached  his 
house.  They  found  it  shut  up  and  no  one  at 
home,  the  woman  who  generally  attended  to  the 
cooking  and  housework  for  Jim  being  away 
at  the  bedside  of  a  sick  child.  Either  Jim  did 
not  know  of  her  probable  absence  or  else  he 
had  thought  of  it  too  late  to  change  his  plans. 
He  was  himself  nearly  exhausted  and  the  girl 
on  the  verge  of  collapsing,  and  he  set  her  down 
on  the  outside  steps  while  he  went  to  unlock 
the  front  door  and  turn  on  the  lights  in  the 
kitchen  and  his  bedroom.  This  was  the  only 
sleeping  room  in  service  in  the  house  at  the 
time,  his  mother 's  room  having  been  closed 
since  her  decease  and  the  charwoman  sleeping 
out. 

When  he  returned  to  conduct  in  the  young 
girl,  he  discovered  she  had  fainted  from  ex 
posure  and  her  exertions;  so  he  was  compelled 
to  gather  her  up  in  his  arms  and  carry  her,  tak 
ing  her  into  the  kitchen  and  dropping  her  in 
a  large  rocking-chair.  Fortunately  there  was 
still  a  low  fire,  easily  replenished,  in  each  of 
the  two  small  stoves  the  one-story  building 
contained,  and,  throwing  a  shovelful  or  two 
of  fresh  coal  on  each,  Jim  unhesitatingly 
pulled  off  her  shoes  and  stockings,  which 
were  wringing  wet,  moved  the  chair  close  up 
to  the  kitchen  stove;  and,  hunting  up  a  half 


JIM  AND  JEMIMA  43 

empty  bottle  of  brandy  he  recollected  seeing  in 
the  cupboard  at  the  time  of  his  mother's  last 
illness,  he  forced  her  to  swallow  most  of  its 
contents.  This  brought  a  slight  color  to  her 
white  face  and  caused  her  to  move  spasmodi 
cally  for  a  minute,  but  she  relapsed  again  into 
unconsciousness.  He  bathed  her  forehead  with 
cold  water,  chafed  her  hands,  arms  and  feet, 
and  did  everything  he  could  think  of  to  bring 
her  to,  but  without  avail. 

[The  pistol-wound  in  his  head,  aggravated  by 
inattention  and  the  severe  strain  he  had  gone 
through,  now  began  to  pain  him  severely;  he 
felt  a  dizziness  coming  over  him  which  he  could 
not  dispel;  and  the  blood  which  had  coagulated 
on  the  wound  in  the  cold  night  air  commenced 
to  soften  and  flow  in  the  heat  of  the  room. 

Alarmed  by  his  own  condition,  he  hastily 
bandaged  the  injury  anew  with  a  wet  towel, 
and  despairing  of  reviving  his  inert  patient 
before  he  should  himself  become  too  faint  to 
wait  upon  her,  he  lifted  her  carefully  from 
the  chair  and  carried  her  unsteadily  into  his 
own  bedroom.  There  he  removed  his  over 
coat,  which  he  had  thus  far  left  on  her  to  assist 
the  warmth  of  the  stove,  and  laid  her  gently 
and  respectfully  on  the  bed. 

In  removing  the  overcoat  her  dress-skirt 
came  away  with  it  and  fell  on  the  floor.  He 


44  ERIC  MABOTTE 

covered  her  softly  with  a  blanket,  then  turned 
down  the  light;  and  he  had  just  sufficient 
strength  left  to  start  towards  the  door,  after 
one  last  smoothing  of  her  hair  from  her  face 
and  an  irresistible  touching  of  his  lips  to  her 
brow;  when  overtaxed  nature  gave  way.  He 
sank  slowly  beside  the  bed,  his  overcoat  where 
it  opportunely  lay,  softening  the  force  of  the 
fall  to  his  head,  and  all  became  a  blank  to  him. 
And  there  the  caretaker  found  them  in  the 
morning  with  their  positions  unchanged,  except 
that  he  in  his  semi-delirium  had  rolled  over 
towards  the  bed  and  thrown  his  arm  upon  her 
pillow,  and  she  in  her  dreams  had  locked  her 
fingers  in  his  and  reclined  facing  him  with  his 
hand  lightly  pressed  against  her  now-fevered 
cheek.  Bousing  him  in  trepidation  from  his 
condition  of  half  sleep,  half  stupor,  the  care 
taker  hurried  him  into  the  kitchen;  and  upon 
examining  his  hurt,  went  after  a  near-by  doc 
tor.  The  latter  came  at  once  and  dressed  the 
wound,  pronouncing  it  not  dangerous,  and  then 
gave  his  attention  to  the  still-sleeping  maiden. 
He  advised  them  not  to  disturb  her,  as  rest  and 
slumber  were  nature 's  own,  and  the  best,  spe 
cifics  for  her  recovery,  and  quietly  took  his  de 
parture,  leaving  instructions  to  call  him  only 
when  she  should  have  awakened  naturally  and 
of  her  own  accord. 


JIM  AND  JEMIMA  45 

After  a  light  breakfast  and  a  more  circum 
stantial  retelling  of  his  adventure  to  the  anxi 
ously  curious  old  colored  woman,  Jim  ventured 
into  the  darkened  chamber  of  the  sleeper,  and 
opening  slightly  the  wooden  inside  blinds,  gazed 
long  and  earnestly  upon  the  unconscious  com 
panion  of  his  recent  strange  encounter.  And  as 
he  looked  the  realization  was  suddenly  borne  in 
upon  him  that  romance  had  come  to  him  at 
last  and  the  prophecy  of  his  nocturnal  imagin 
ings  had  proved  true. 

Business  was  not  to  be  thought  of  in  the 
suspense  hanging  over  the  slow  hours  that  might 
elapse  before  the  girl  opened  her  eyes  again, 
and  the  two  faithful  watchers  remained  in  the 
kitchen,  eagerly  listening  for  the  first  sound 
from  the  room  beyond.  When  it  eventually 
came  Jim  sent  the  motherly  woman  in  alone 
to  nurse  her  and  soothe  her  first  alarm  at  her 
unfamiliar  surroundings ;  and  when,  a  half  hour 
later,  the  two  appeared  in  the  doorway,  he  was 
busily  engaged  in  preparing  supper  and  endeav 
ored  to  look  unconcerned. 

Not  so  the  young  girl;  she  went  straight  up 
to  him  and,  holding  out  her  hands,  called  him 
by  name — and  in  that  moment  all  the  pent  up 
affection  of  his  lonely  young  heart  went  out 
to  her. 

The  older  woman  remained  at  the  house;  and, 


46  ERIC  MAROTTE 

owning  no  living  relatives  to  whom  she  could 
go  or  appeal,  the  younger  one  was  persuaded 
to  stay  there  for  a  day  or  two  until  she  should 
entirely  recover  from  her  nervous  shock  and 
they  could  determine  the  best  method  of  pro 
viding  for  her  immediate  future.  For  she  had 
no  desire  to  return  to  her  old  situation  with 
the  dressmaker,  where  she  had  been  poorly  fed 
and  miserably  paid  and  had  slept  alone  in  an 
unheated  garret.  With  her  consent,  Jim  under 
took  to  find  for  her  some  more  propitious  open 
ing  elsewhere. 

She  was  very  young  and  willing,  though  ut 
terly  destitute,  and  her  womanly  charms  just 
budding  into  such  a  promise  of  rare  fascination 
that  Jim  could  not  bear  the  thought  of  thrusting 
her  again  out  unguarded  upon  the  cold  world ; 
and  it  was  mutually  decided  between  the  three 
that  she  was  to  continue  a  welcome  guest  there 
indefinitely.  Her  approval  of  this  arrangement 
was  obtained,  however,  only  upon  the  assurance 
that  she  should  be  allowed  to  do  everything  in 
her  power  about  the  house  and  to  add  her  mite 
to  the  finances  of  the  home  as  soon  as  she  se 
cured  paid  work.  The  mother's  long-dismantled 
sleeping  room  was  reopened  and  prepared  for 
its  two  new  occupants;  the  older  woman,  who 
was  a  childless  widow,  moved  her  belongings 
into  the  house ;  and  thus  Jim  made  his  premier 


JIM  AND  JEMIMA  47 

entree  in  the  role  of  head  of  a  household. 
Through  his  constant  reading  and  his  long  non- 
association  with  other,  illiterate,  Negroes,  he 
had  already  dropped  his  native  dialect,  and  his 
language  was  now  practically  that  of  the  bet 
ter  class  of  white  people.  In  fact,  he  was,  if 
anything,  too  seriously  inclined  towards  exact 
ness  in  .both  rhetoric  and  life,  though  he  under 
stood  his  own  practical  limitations  and  that  of 
his  race  at  large  in  those  respects. 

Jemima,  the  girl,  was  of  a  sunny,  helpful 
disposition  and  fairly  well  educated,  with  a  nat 
ural,  inherited  refinement ;  the  other  woman  was 
thankful  for  a  home  and  eager  to  cook  appe 
tizing  dishes;  Jim  was  full  of  his  newly-discov 
ered  passion  for  feminine  grace  and  charm  and 
proud  of  his  abruptly-acquired  dignity  of  pre 
siding  at  the  head  of  the  table ;  and  here  for 
many  blissful  days,  oblivious  of  society's  con 
ventions,  they  passed  their  mornings  and  even 
ings  together  in  intelligent  discourse  and  un 
affected  happiness — such  happiness  as  might 
be  envied  by  many  a  strait-laced  matron  and 
maid  who  judge  themselves  and  their  neighbors 
by  rule  and  not  by  heart. 

And,  of  course,  rightly  or  wrongly,  Jim  loved 
the  girl — how  could  he  help  it? 

So  conscientious  a  nature  as  Jemima's  could 
not  long  permit  its  possessor  to  remain  idle,  and 


48  ERIC  MAROTTE 

under  these  brighter  auspices  she  soon  procured 
reasonably  well-paid  employment  in  a  down 
town  store;  and  great  was  her  delight  and  en 
thusiasm  when,  seated  with  him  in  the  little 
parlor  one  Saturday  night,  she  offered  Jim  her 
first  week's  wages  intact. 

"Here  is  the  first  installment  of  my  board 
bill,  Jim,"  she  cried  gayly. 

"No,  no!  I  can  not  have  it  so,  dear!"  he  ex 
claimed  ;  "  It  would  look  too  much  like  accepting 
a  reward  for  the  small  service  I  have  been  en 
abled  by  good  fortune  to  render  you,  and  for 
which  I  have  already  been  a  thousand  times  re 
paid  by  the  exquisite  pleasures  you,  yourself, 
have  added  to  my  humble  life  and  home." 

"But,  it  is  right  that  you  should  take  it,  Jim; 
where  would  I  be  today  and  what  might  not  be 
my  hopeless  fate  but  for  you?  I  should  be  an 
ingrate  indeed  if  I  did  not  insist  upon  your  tak 
ing  all  I  earned.  Come,  please,  do  take  it !  you 
hurt  me  very  much  by  refusing ;  I  cannot  accept 
charity,  even  from  you,  after  the  temporary 
necessity  has  passed — I  should  loathe  myself 
and  loathe  you,  too,  if  I  did  so!" 

Astounded  by  the  vehemence  and  agony  of 
her  insistence,  Jim  hesitated;  but  quickly  re 
gaining  his  firmness  of  purpose,  he  turned 
sadly  towards  her  and,  drinking  in  all  her  sweet 
ness  and  beauty  with  eyes  in  which  love  and 


m 


J  EMIMA 


JIM  AND  JEMIMA  49 

despair  fought  with  pride,  took  both  her  hands 
in  his  and  said: 

"No,  Jemima,  it  can  not  be;  I  could  never, 
under  any  circumstances,  accept  money  from 
a  woman  such  as  you  unless  either  she  was 
already  related  to  me  by  the  ties  of  blood  or 
else  expected  soon  to  be  related  still  more  closely 
to  me  by  the  ties  of  marriage ;  and  for  the  latter 
blessing,  dearly  as  I  love  you — and  I  love  you 
with  an  adoration  that  has  fed  upon  the  very 
need  of  hiding  itself  from  you — I  know  I  can 
not  hope." 

Her  eyelids  drooped  beneath  his  suddenly 
impassioned  gaze;  the  red  blood's  flame  (na 
ture's  badge  of  both  woman's  modesty  and 
woman's  shame)  mounted  furiously  to  her  fore- 
head;  and  dropping  to  her  knees  before  his 
chair  like  a  clinging  child,  she  hid  her  face  on 
his  breast  and  lay  there  sighing  convulsively 
in  slow,  choking  sobs. 

Frightened  and  taken  completely  off  his 
guard  by  her  unexpected  actions,  he  could  not 
suppress  his  passion,  and  held  her  close,  as 
though  he  felt  that  any  parting  now  must  be 
forever. 

Soon  her  sobbing  died  away,  and,  raising 
her  tearful  eyes  to  his,  she  spoke: 

"Ah!  Jim,  you  cannot  know  how  I  have 
longed  and  prayed  for  this!  Oh,  the  delicious 


50  ERIC  MAROTTE 

ecstasy  which  overwhelmed  me  when  I  first 
thought  you  seemed  to  care  for  me,  and  the 
dreariness  that  settled  on  my  heart  when  I  as 
sured  myself  that  you  could  not!  For  I  have 
loved  you  always,  from  the  very  beginning,  and 
shall  always  love  you  till  the  very  end.  You 
say  that  you  love  me;  then,  why  can  you  never 
hope  to  marry  me  ?  I  do  not  understand. ' ' 

He  bowed  his  head  over  hers  in  mental  an 
guish  for  several  minutes  ere  he  could  command 
his  voice,  and  his  tones  shook  with  uncontroll 
able  emotion  as  he  replied: 

''Can  you  not  see,  dearest? — you  must  see 
the  utter  impossibility  of  it  all — the  insurmount 
able  barrier  that  neither  greatness,  wealth  nor 
truest  worth  can  shatter  down — the  dark  and 
cruel  curse  of  birth  with  which  a  supposedly 
merciful  Gk>d  has  clouded  my  horizon,  forever 
dooming  me  from  the  blameless  cradle  to  the 
welcome  grave !  Of  what  advantage  worth  while 
to  me  now  were  fame  or  fortune,  even  could  I 
aspire  to  their  achievement,  if  you  must  still 
be  withheld  from  me?  If  ever  a  man  was 
tempted  to  'curse  his  God  and  die,'  I  am  that 
man!  And  all  this  miraged  happiness,  all  these 
sleepless  dreams,  are  given  me  now  by  a  dia 
bolical  Fate  but  to  lift  my  spirit  to  such  ethereal 
heights  that  the  consummate  cruelty  of  its 
eventual  fall  must  freeze  the  bloodless  marrow 


JIM  AND  JEMIMA  51 

of  the  arch  field  himself  to  contemplate!  The 
tears  of  all  the  downtrodden  of  the  earth  for 
ages  immemorable,  the  pleas  for  mercy  of  all 
the  damned  in  hell,  nor  the  prayers  of  all  the 
saints  in  Heaven  to  the  end  of  time,  can  not 
wash  out  my  stain!  And  that  it  should  be  I, 
innocent  of  any  wrong  to  man  or  woman  or 
child  and  guiltless  in  the  eyes  of  Heaven,  who 
must  bear  this  brand,  like  an  ineradicable  mark 
of  Cain!  0,  it  is  terrible! — maddening!  Too 
horrible  to  believe  or  realize! — I  shall  go  mad, 
mad,  mad!" 

Trembling  like  a  leaf  in  his  arms,  Jemima 
tried  to  stem  this  torrent  of  invective  rushing 
from  his  breaking  heart  by  twining  her  arms 
about  his  neck  and  placing  her  lips  to  his  with 
an  unreasoning  and  impulsive  instinct  to  kiss 
his  pain  away.  As  he  ceased  she  slid  from  his 
embrace  and  arose  to  her  feet.  Holding  him 
at  arm's  length  with  both  hands  upon  his  breast, 
she  looked  him  in  the  face  wonderingly  and 
fearfully. 

"What  is  this  dreadful  thing  of  which  you 
speak  and  how  does  it  prevent  us  and  deny  our 
right  to  the  happiness  we  seek  in  each  other? 
Be  quick;  I  cannot  bear  this  suspense!" 

"Must  I  say  it,  then?  The  bare  words  them 
selves  will  seem  as  cold  and  meaningless  beside 
their  awful  purport  as  does  the  marble  tomb 


52  ERIC  MAROTTE 

above  the  wreckage  of  the  gnawing  worms  it 
hides  when  we  but  think  upon  the  living  maj 
esty  of  death.  It  is  the  curse  of  color!  I  cannot 
marry  you,  dear  heart,  because  of  the  simple 
fact  that  you  are  white  and  I  am  black.  Legal 
or  illegal,  I  do  not  believe  in  miscegenation. ' ' 

"Oh!  thank  God!"  With  tears  of  mingled 
joy  and  pity  she  took  his  face  between  her 
hands,  and,  with  warm  blushes  mantling  on  her 
neck  and  cheeks  and  forehead,  stood  confused 
and  shy  before  him. 

"Thank  God  for  what?"  he  cried. 

"For  giving  me  the  power  to  break  your  bar 
rier  with  a  single  word — I  am  not  white;  I  am 
an  octoroon." 

As  when  some  spirit  doomed  while  on  this 
earth  to  inhabit  the  mortal  body  of  a  poor  and 
halting  and  ungifted  being,  bursts  its  bonds  at 
death,  and,  rising  first  in  new,  uncertain  flight 
on  wings  grown  weak  from  long  disuse,  whirls 
suddenly  and  takes  its  swift  and  certain  way 
through  countless  angel  hosts  straight  to  the 
awaiting  God-Head,  so  these  two  loving,  humble 
hearts,  relieved  from  doubt  and  fasting,  rushed 
rapturously  into  Love's  Elysian  Fields  to  pluck 
the  .fruit  and  flowers  of  soulful  fancy  waiting 
for  them  there. 

How  they  were  betrothed;  how  they  over 
came  the  legal  obstacle  of  their  being,  both  of 


JIM  AND  JEMIMA  53 

them,  under  age,  through  the  appointment  by 
the  probate  court  of  a  guardian  for  each 
of  them,  who  gave  consent  to  their  immedi 
ate  marriage;  how  they  were  married  quietly 
and  lived  together  in  that  true  happiness 
and  thrift  which  a  fond  eagerness  to  outdo 
each  other  in  mutual  helpfulness  and  a 
genuine  hunger  for  ambitious  correlated  la 
bors,  alone  can  bring;  and  how  they  kept  to  the 
old  house  until  it  was  burned  over  their  heads 
in  the  fire  of  1874,  and  then  started  life  afresh 
on  "  Goose  Island, "  where  we  find  them  so 
snugly  established  at  the  commencement  of  this 
tale :  is  not  essential  to  the  completeness  of  my 
story,  and  so  is  better  stated  undetailed. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  FOUNDLING 

UPPER  is  all  ready  and  on  the 
table,  Jim;  come  right  in  and  sit 
down;  just  wash  your  hands  quick 
at  the  sink  and  don't  wait  a  minute 
to  change  your  clothes,  or  it  will 
get  cold.  I've  got  such  a  nice,  fat, 
young  chicken — it's  fine  1  I  can  hardly  keep  my 
knife  out  of  it;  and  such  corn — best  I  ever 
bought  or  raised,  and  so  cheap!  It  isn't  ' tur 
key'  weather,  and  so  we  can't  have  cranberry 
sauce  with  the  chicken,  the  way  you  like  it,  but 
I've  brought  out  one  of  those  little  glass  jars 
of  my  own  preserved  currants  I  was  saving  for 
company,  and  we'll  just  eat  it  up  all  by  our 
selves.  Now  you  bring  in  the  potatoes  while 
I  get  the  pot  and  pour  the  coffee,  and  we'll  have 
it  right  at  first,  with  the  meat.  It'll  liven  you 
up  so  and  make  the  whole  meal  taste  so  good. 
There — was  there  ever  such  a  comfortable 
couple?" 

They  sat  down  at  either  side  of  their  small 
but  bountifully  spread  table,  and  Jemima  in 
clined  her  head  as  Jim,  folding  his  hands  rev- 

54 


THE  FOUNDLING  55 

erently  above  the  spotless  cloth  in  a  childlike 
simplicity,  prayed  aloud  softly: 

"Our  Father,  who  looketh  down  on  many 
homes,  filled  alike  by  those  who  know  Thee  and 
by  those  who  know  Thee  not;  whose  care  pro 
videth  for  all  who  seek  Thy  ways  with  contrite 
hearts;  whose  Mercy  sheddeth  abundance  on 
the  erring  ones  in  sweet  forgiveness,  too;  raise 
Thou  the  lowly  from  the  dust  and  help  the 
hungry  and  the  sad.  For  thy  munificence  to  us 
— for  Thy  kind  lending  of  Thy  guiding  hand — 
take  Thou  our  gratitude  and  trust.  Amen." 

As  Jim  closed  his  prayer  and  sat  for  a  mo 
ment  with  transfigured  face,  Jemima  quietly 
arose  and  kissed  him  and  the  supper  was  begun 
in  silence.  Presently  Jim  spoke. 

"Well,  dear,  I  know  of  no  further  blessing 
we  could  covet  now  unless  it  be  the  pattering 
of  little  feet  and  the  sight  of  little,  living  images 
of  ourselves  about  our  board.  That  is  our  only 
cross,  and  sometimes  I  think  it  is  all  so  for  a 
purpose  and  that  the  Lord  will  show  us  in  His 
own  good  way  and  time  why  this  gift  we  crave 
is  still  withheld  from  us.  I  have  a  premonition 
— call  if  fanciful  if  you  will — that  we  shall  not 
be  alone  here  much  longer. " 

"O,  Jim!"  ejaculated  his  wife  in  supersti 
tious  awe. 

Supper  over,  Jemima  cleared  the  table  and 


56  ERIC  MAROTTE 

washed  the  dishes  and  silver  while  her  husband 
stepped  into  their  tiny  bedroom  to  change  his 
clothes — or  "to  dress, "  as  the  English  call  it. 
Half  an  hour  afterwards  they  were  both  seated 
in  the  living  room  at  the  front  of  the  house, 
in  quiet,  peaceful  content,  Jim  smoking  his  post 
prandial  pipe  over  the  daily  paper  and  Jemima 
with  her  work-basket  on  the  floor  beside  her, 
darning  and  mending  like  a  breathing  auto 
maton.  Later  in  the  evening  the  lamps  were 
turned  low  and  the  windows  thrown  wide  open 
to  let  in  the  cool,  dew-laden  autumn  breeze. 
Jim  lay  back  in  his  chair  and  rocked  slowly, 
in  tune  to  the  plaintive  airs  Jemima  drew  from 
the  small  melodeon  (that  instrument  which 
lends  itself  so  readily  to  hymns  and  so  reluct 
antly  to  dance  music). 

The  silvery  light  of  the  full,  white  moon  dif 
fused  a  soft  refulgence  through  the  open  case 
ments,  its  narrowed  rays  penetrating  the  inte 
rior  gloom  and  falling  straight  upon  an  engrav 
ing  of  the  "Madonna  and  Child, "  which  it 
bathed  in  a  celestial  glory.  Out  into  the  "qui 
etude  of  the  vast,  care-dispelling  night"  drifted 
the  soothing  words  and  low,  sweet  notes  of  a 
clear  and  sympathetic  voice  as  Jemima  sang, 
her  fingers  lightly  pressing  the  unseen  keys, 
an  old,  simple  school-song: 


THE  FOUNDLING  57 

"Oh,  the  south  wind  comes  with  perfumed  breath 

From  out  the  woodland  hills; 
And  it  fans  my  cheek  and  it  kisses  the  flowers, 

And  the  willow's  branches  fills." 


Fall  soon  faded  into  winter,  and  the  days 
passed  quickly  with  them  in  the  same  unevent 
ful,  yet  never-monotonous  routine  of  their  well- 
rounded  lives.  It  was  now  the  night  before 
Christmas,  and  the  snow  lay  deep  on  all  the 
sleeping  flowers  of  their  little  garden  and  was 
heaped  high  on  either  side  where  Jim  had  shov 
eled  a  path  from  the  gate  to  the  front  door,  but 
all  was  warm  and  snug  within  the  cottage.  Out 
side  the  snow  still  fell  in  blinding  whiteness, 
the  hurrying,  persistent,  yet  never-colliding 
flakes  gleaming  like  myriad  shooting  stars 
across  the  little  misty  trapezoidal  panes  of  glass 
protecting  the  flickering  lights  of  the  lamp 
posts.  Jim  and  Jemima  had  just  returned  from 
a  Christmas  Eve  entertainment  at  a  "  poor  peo 
ple  V  church  over  on  the  "  mainland "  which 
they  often  attended  and  where,  tonight,  they 
had  unostensively  contributed  for  more  than 
their  share  to  the  presents  for  the  children  gath 
ered  there,  and  had  entered  gayly  into  the  spirit 
of  the  Yuletide,  bedecking  the  great  tree  and 
enjoying  the  little  ones'  eager  expectancy  and 
fulfilled  delights  in  a  way  many  childless  people 
seem  to  have  of  " propitiating  the  storks." 


58  ERIC  MAROTTE 

Jim  stirred  up  the  fire  in  the  kitchen  stove, 
which  in  ordinarily  cold  weather  did  duty  for 
the  whole  house,  and  producing  a  long  bottle 
from  some  mysterious  source,  filled  two  glasses 
with  ruddy  wine  and  handed  one,  with  mock 
gallantry,  to  Jemima. 

"Let  us  drink,  dear  heart, "  said  he,  "to 
hale  old  Saint  Nicholas,  the  greatest  friend  of 
childhood,  the  patron  saint  of  both  rich  and 
poor;  at  whose  shrine  the  highest  and  the 
lowliest  bend  the  knee  with  the  offerings  of 
loving-kindness,  as  unconsciously  and  as 
surely,  to  this  day,  as  did  the  shepherds,  the 
wise  men  and  the  kings  two  thousand  years  ago 
when  they  followed  the  Star  of  Bethlehem  to 
the  Christ-child's  humble  manger-cradle  and 
laid  their  gifts  in  gladness  at  his  feet.  He  who 
would  destroy  by  cold  and  vulgar  reasoning 
this  imaginative,  legendary  belief  and  custom, 
filled  as  it  is  with  all  the  everlasting  qualities 
that  adhere  to  it  from  the  basic  truth  of  its 
origin  in  the  poetic  and  beautiful  story  of  the 
birth  of  Chirst,  would  take  from  men  that  one 
sweet  touch  of  nature  which  makes  all  the 
world  akin  and  rob  their  children  of  an  inno 
cent  earthly  heaven;  for  Christmas  is  Love's 
birthday. " 

"I  wonder  what  Santa  Claus  will  bring  us 
tonight,  Jim,"  laughed  Jemima.  "I  looked  up 


THE  FOUNDLING  59 

the  chimney  this  evening  and  I'm  sure  I  saw 
his  red  nose,  and  he  couldn  't  have  a  better  night 
for  sleighing. " 

"If  you  hear  his  reindeers '  bells  jingling 
on  our  roof  be  sure  and  wake  me,  so  I  can  see 
if  he  looks  like  you,  Jim,"  she  added  mischiev 
ously,  and  with  a  knowing  wink. 

There  came  a  muffled  knock  on  the  house- 
door. 

"Listen,  Jim,  I  bet  that's  old  Santa  Glaus 
himself!  You  wait  here  till  I  tiptoe  out  and  sur 
prise  him,"  cried  Jemima. 

"Bring  him  in  if  he's  out  there  and  we'll 
hold  up  his  pack,"  he  returned  laughingly;  "he 
don't  get  away  without  leaving  us  an  extra  fine 
present  this  time!" 

She  opened  the  door  softly  and  peeked  out; 
but  seeing  no  one,  called:  "Who  is  there?"  No 
answer.  She  called  again  without  result. 

Closing  the  door,  she  returned  to  the  kitchen, 
where  Jim  was  patiently  waiting,  confident  the 
knocker  would  prove  to  be  only  some  neighbor 
running  in  to  exchange  Christmas  news  and 
greetings. 

"Who  was  it!"  he  asked  her. 

"It  is  strange.  There  was  no  one  outside," 
she  replied;  "yet  I'm  sure  I  heard  a  knock — 
didn't  you  hear  itf  " 

"Yes ;  if  it  were  Hallowe'en  night  instead  of 


60  ERIC  MAROTTE 

Christmas  Eve,  I  would  think  it  was  some  small 
boy  playing  tricks  on  us;  but  at  this  season  of 
the  year — no." 

They  returned  to  their  usual  occupations  still 
wondering  and  were  about  to  undress  for  bed, 
when  suddenly  the  knocking  was  repeated,  this 
time  distinct  and  emphatic. 

1 1 There  it  is  again! "  they  exclaimed  in  uni 
son. 

"You  go  to  the  door,  Jim,"  faltered  his  wife, 
"I'm  afraid.  Maybe  it's  a  burglar,  though 
burglars  don't  generally  announce  their  pres 
ence  so  openly,  do  they?" 

He  put  down  the  lamp  he  had  just  taken  up 
and,  walking  firmly  to  the  door,  threw  it  open 
its  full  width  and  stood  boldly  relieved  against 
the  light  from  the  kitchen ;  so  that  anyone  hid 
ing  without  could  not  have  failed  to  see  him 
plainly. 

"Who  are  you?  Show  up  there,  sir!"  he 
shouted  sharply.  Not  a  soul  was  in  sight;  the 
cold,  dark  void  gave  back  no  answer  to  his  de 
mand.  He  turned  around  to  Jemima,  who  had 
followed  him. 

"I  don't  like  this  at  all;  it  is  getting  too 
ghostly  for  me — there  is  something  wrong  about 
it,"  said  he;  "if  we  hear  anything  more  of  it 
I'll  get  my  gun  and  investigate  further." 

Annoyed  and  mystified  and  their  nerves  af- 


THE  FOUNDLING  6 1 

fected  to  a  greater  degree  that  they  cared  to 
acknowledge  even  to  each  other,  they  finally  put 
out  the  light  and  retired. 

Jemima  always  slept  very  lightly,  and  about 
one  o'clock  in  the  morning  she  was  awakened 
by  a  slight,  intermittent  noise,  as  if  a  child 
were  crying.  She  got  up  and  hastily  donned  a 
wrapper;  and  throwing  an  apron  over  her  head, 
she  felt  her  way  cautiously  about  the  house  in 
the  dark,  trying  to  trace  the  sounds,  which 
would  start  and  then  stop  again.  They  led 
her  to  the  small  front-door  vestibule ;  and,  satis 
fied  that  they  proceeded  from  some  source  with 
out  the  house,  she  at  last  summoned  up  enough 
courage  to  turn  the  key  and  draw  the  bolt  of 
the  outer  door  and  pull  it  open  just  a  crack. 
The  noise  then  became  clearly  audible,  and  was 
plainly  the  voice  of  a  very  young  babe. 

Emboldened  by  the  innocent  cause  of  the  dis 
turbance  and  now  thoroughly  aroused  to  action, 
she  walked  deliberately  out  in  her  bare  feet, 
and  at  the  foot  of  the  steps,  where  it  was  hid 
den  from  view  behind  a  snow-bank  as  the  path 
curved  to  the  left,  stumbled  against  a  dark, 
woolen  bundle  from  which  there  immediately 
arose  a  feeble  cry  of  fretfulness  and  affright. 
Shading  her  eyes  with  her  hand,  she  stooped 
over  and  mechanically  picked  it  up,  her  heart 
beating  wildly  at  the  suddenness  and  shock  of 


62  ERIC  MAROTTE 

her  discovery.  Looking  carefully  about  for  any 
one  who  might  have  been  guilty  of  leaving  any 
living  thing  to  such  a  fate,  she  held  it  tenderly 
to  her  bosom  a  minute;  then  ran  with  it  up  the 
steps  and  into  the  house,  where  her  husband, 
disquieted  by  the  cold  draft  through  the  open 
door,  had  awakened  in  alarm  and  now  rushed 
dazedly  to  meet  her. 

They  carried  it  into  the  kitchen,  lit  the  lamp 
in  feverish  haste,  threw  off  the  lid  of  the  little 
stove  to  let  out  more  heat,  and  then  carefully 
unwrapped  the  bundle.  Whence  Jemima,  with 
a  scared,  white  face  and  trembling  hands,  drew 
slowly  forth  a  poor,  little,  half -frozen  baby,  who 
opened  his  eyes  and  stared  at  them  in  mute 
surprise  and  then  cried  feebly. 

Jim  and  Jemima  were  stricken  mute  with 
horror  and  pity,  and  for  a  time  neither  could 
find  tongue  to  utter  the  thoughts  that  held  them 
enthralled,  but  stood  and  gaped  at  each  other 
in  mutual  confusion.  Then  came  the  reanima- 
tion  of  their  reason,  and,  without  a  word  or  the 
waste  of  a  minute,  they  set  to  work  rubbing  its 
hands  and  feet,  arms  and  face,  Jemima  holding 
it  on  her  lap,  close  to  the  stove,  while  her  hus 
band  rapidly  warmed  a  tin  cupful  of  milk.  This 
the  infant  at  first  could  take  but  gingerly,  in  lit 
tle  sips,  looking  up  enquiringly  into  the  faces 
of  his  new  acquaintances  between  swallows ;  but 


THE  FOUNDLING  63 

gradually  becoming  comfortably  "  thawed  out," 
he  soon  attacked  it  with  an  avidity  which  spoke 
worlds  for  the  wonderful  power  of  resuscitation 
of  infancy. 

The  baby,  a  boy,  appeared  to  be  about  a  year 
and  a  half  old  and  was  warmly  dressed,  though 
in  clothes  he  had  nearly  outgrown.  Whoever 
left  him  in  his  perilous  position  had  at  least 
taken  considerable  pains  to  keep  him  from 
danger  of  freezing.  After  the  judicious  intro 
duction  into  his  little  "tummie"  of  the  warm 
milk,  he  promptly  fell  fast  asleep;  and  but  par 
tially  undressing  him,  as  he  had  brought  no 
personal  baggage  with  him  and  they  had  not  the 
ghost  of  a  "  nigh  tie "  to  put  him  in,  they  laid 
him  sadly  and  fondly  on  their  own  bed. 

As  they  did  so  Jemima  felt  something  cold 
and  metallic  fall  against  the  back  of  her  hand. 
Reaching  down,  she  lifted  up  the  links  of  a 
finely  wrought  gold  necklace  fastened  around 
his  neck.  Pendant  from  this  necklace  was  a 
small  heart-shaped  gold  locket  upon  one  side 
of  which  blazed  a  half-carat  ruby  of  blood-red 
lustre,  whose  preservation  seemed  to  disprove 
any  motive  of  cupidity  on  the  part  of  those  who 
might  have  been  his  kidnapers.  Astounded 
anew,  she  held  up  the  locket  to  the  radiance 
from  the  kitchen  lamp  and  at  Jim's  suggestion 


64  ERIC  MAROTTE 

pried  it  open;  when  out  dropped  a  tightly  folded 
piece  of  white  paper. 

They  covered  the  sleeping  babe  gently  and, 
carrying  this  paper  to  the  lamp,  silently  un 
folded  it.  And  there  they  read  upon  it,  written 
in  a  woman's  hand  that  wavered  over  the  open 
ing  words  but  became  quite  firm  before  the 
message  ended:  "This  baby  is  a  ' natural'  and 
will  never  be  reclaimed  by  me."  It  was  evi 
dently  a  case  of  deliberate,  premeditated  child- 
abandonment;  yet  they  wondered  at  the  cruelty 
of  a  mother  who  could  indite  so  damning  a  note 
about  her  own  offspring. 

Going  back  to  the  child,  they  detached  the 
chain  and  locket  from  his  neck  and  brought 
them  also  to  the  light,  to  look  them  over  for 
any  possible  marks  of  identification.  The  chain 
divulged  no  secrets  of  its  past.  The  inside  of 
the  locket  was  fitted  with  a  glass  in  each  half, 
one  of  these  encasing  a  lock  of  yellow  hair,  the 
other  framing  another  lock,  both  coarse  and 
black.  There  were  no  other  evidences  of  individ 
uality.  They  carefully  replaced  the  written 
note  inside  the  locket,  reclasped  its  chain  about 
the  slumbering  baby's  neck  and  came  away. 

There  was  no  sleep  for  them  that  night. 
Through  the  long  hours,  besieged  by  alternating 
hopes  and  doubts  and  ruled  by  conflicting  emo 
tions,  they  struggled  with  their  new,  strange 


THE  FOUNDLING  65 

problem.  The  sunless  Christmas  dawn  found 
them  on  their  knees  in  prayerful  supplication 
to  their  Heavenly  Father  to  teach  their  hearts 
aright  his  hidden  will  and  lead  them  safely  on, 
in  this  their  fresh  and  awful  accountability. 

Not  for  one  moment,  however,  did  they 
dream  of  turning  over  the  child  to  the  cold 
claims  of  any  of  the  city's  charitable  institu 
tions  "  devoted "  to  the  care  of  deserted  chil 
dren — those  travesties  on  home  where  bodies 
may  be  fed  but  hearts  are  starved.  They  would, 
of  course,  notify  the  police  department  and 
newspapers;  so  that  if  by  any  possibility  the 
child  had  been  feloniously  taken  from  his  par 
ents,  he  might  be  restored  to  them  at  once;  but 
in  their  own  hearts  they  both  feared  and  hoped 
that  such  was  not  the  case. 

With  the  coming  of  day  their  minds  grew 
clearer  and  less  subject  to  useless  anxieties  and 
forebodings  and  their  spirits  in  a  measure  re 
vived.  They  began  to  enthuse  more  over  the 
agreeable  probabilities  of  the  situation,  as  one 
always  does  when  busy  action  can  be  made  to 
take  the  place  of  idle  worry.  Jemima  looked 
at  her  husband's  woe-begone  face,  and  was  sud 
denly  struck  with  the  ludicrousness  of  its  ex 
pression  and  the  humorousness  of  their  predica 
ment;  she  burst  out  in  a  shame-faced  laugh. 

1 1  Cheer  up,  Jim,  I  guess  the  baby  must  have 


66  ERIC  MAROTTE 

been  intended  for  our  Christmas  present,"  she 
ventured,  "and  Santa  Glaus  never  takes  back 
his  presents,  you  know.  It  would  make  him  out, 
as  the  children  say,  an  'injun  giver/  and  I'm 
sure  he  wouldn't  relish  that  mysterious  stigma. 

"The  poor  little  waif  is  very  dark — darker 
much  than  I  am,  and  is  to  all  appearances  a 
colored  child;  so  there  could  be  no  impropriety 
in  our  keeping  him,  at  least  until  we  can  learn 
the  truth  about  those  who  have  so  cruelly  cast 
him  off." 

"I  am  beginning  to  love  him  already,"  she 
whispered,  her  poor  starved  mother-heart  cry 
ing  out  against  their  lives'  barrenness  of  child 
hood's  charms. 

Jim  brightened  perceptively,  but,  manlike, 
he  hesitated,  trying  to  reason  out  in  his  mind 
in  advance,  more  rationally  and  closely,  the 
effects  of  any  action  they  might  take.  Jemima 
waited,  but  as  he  did  not  speak,  she  slyly  added : 

"Don't  you  remember  what  you  said  last 
autumn  ? ' ' 

« No— what  was  it?" 

"I  am  afraid  it  is  a  presumptuous  and  sacri 
legious  thing  to  say,  but  I  believe  you  spoke 
more  prophetically  than  you  knew  when  you 
said:  'I  have  a  premonition — call  it  fanciful 
if  you  will — that  we  shall  not  be  alone  here 
much  longer!'  " 


THE  FOUNDLING  67 

i i That  settles  it,  Jemima;  thank  you  for  re 
membering.  I  am  willing,  and  I  can  see  that 
you  are  more  than  willing,  to  take  up  this  prec 
ious  burden  of  love  and  delicate  responsibility 
which  seems  sent  to  us  by  heaven;  and  at  such 
a  time  as  this  the  beautiful  memory  of  our 
Savior  as  a  babe  himself  serves  as  a  call  to  us, 
to  bid  us  keep  in  mind  the  Bible's  loving  ad 
monition,  'He  saith  unto  you,  feed  my  sheep/ 

Together  they  passed  into  the  room  where 
lay  the  baby,  still  in  rosy  slumber  and  all  un 
aware  of  the  overshadowing  crisis  of  his  little 
life.  As  they  gazed  upon  him  a  mist  appeared 
to  gather  before  their  eyes,  wet  with  the  tears 
of  new  desire  and  a  solemn  joy  and  pity.  And 
there  they  stood;  and  Jemima,  twining  her  arms 
around  her  husband 's  neck,  rested  her  head 
confidingly  upon  his  broad  shoulder  and  said, 
simply,  "Yes,  little  darling,  we  will  keep  you, 
and,  oh!  we'll  love  you,  too." 


CHAPTER  V. 

IN  WHICH  LIFE  CHANGES  ITS  ASPECT 
TO  SEVERAL  PERSONS 

¥HIS  Christmas  day  having  fallen 
on  Saturday,  there  was  no  work 
to  be  done  outside  the  house  un 
til  the  following  Monday,  and 
Jim  and  Jemima  had  ample  time 
to  learn  to  accommodate  their 
old  habits  to  the  new  order  of  things.    It  all 
seemed  to  come  to  them  so  naturally  that  they 
were  surprised  at  themselves. 

Outside,  a  late-rising  sun  dispelled  the  snow- 
clouds.  Life  began  to  take  on  a  brighter  hue, 
and  they  found  many  delicious  confidences  to 
impart  to  each  other  about  the  new  arrival  in 
"the  family. "  When  the  babe  awoke  and 
smiled  in  perfect  faith  at  them  with  his  fawn- 
like  eyes  and  kiss-compelling  lips,  they  were 
delighted;  and  when  they  fed  him  awkwardly 
and  he  broke  out  in  a  laughing,  healthy  coo,  they 
could  no  longer  contain  their  pleasurably  ex 
citement,  but  hugged  and  kissed  him  in  utter 
abandonment.  They  were  like  two  children  with 
a  new  and  wonderful  mechanical  toy.  Every 
thing  about  the  house  took  on  new  meaning  in 

68 


LIFE  CHANGES  ITS  ASPECT  69 

its  relation  to  the  new  member  of  the  family 
who  must  now  be  considered;  and  it  seemed  to 
them  that  never  before  had  the  sun  shone  so 
brightly,  the  fire  given  such  home-like,  toasty 
warmth,  nor  the  food  been  so  palatable  and  im 
portant. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day  Jim  went 
to  the  nearest  police  station  and  notified  the 
precinct  captain  of  what  had  happened  to  them. 
The  latter  individual  was  very  much  taken  up 
with  his  own  holiday  plans  and  evinced  but  a 
languid  interest  in  the  affair,  saying  such  things 
were  common  enough.  If  there  was  any  hurry 
about  it  he  would  send  over  a  roundsman  to 
take  the  foundling  away  to  some  public  institu 
tion  or  other  in  an  hour  or  so,  though  he  was 
short  of  men  today  as  he  had  allowed  every 
officer  he  could  spare  to  go  home  to  his  wife  and 
children  for  the  Christmas  celebration.  Jim 
listened  with  a  beating  heart,  and  was  much 
relieved  in  mind  when  he  learned  that  they  did 
not  have  to  give  up  the  child  at  once.  He  said 
there  was  no  hurry,  and  the  captain  looked 
pleased. 

All  hands  being  suited,  Jim  then  bought  the 
good-natured  minion  of  the  law  a  big  cigar,  and 
they  "parted  f rinds, "  as  the  Irish  officer  ex 
pressed  it,  he  being  glad  to  be  temporarily  re 
prieved  from  a  disagreeable  duty.  Jim  escaped 


70  ERIC  MABOTTE 

from  the  smelly  station  feeling  like  a  man  who 
had  just  been  told  of  a  fortune  to  which  he  had 
fallen  heir  through  the  "convenient"  demise  of 
a  hitherto-unheard-of  and  rather  mythical  old 
uncle.  Boarding  a  cityward  passing  car,  he 
visited  the  local  rooms  of  the  few  daily  news 
papers  then  in  circulation  in  Chicago,  and  re 
ported  the  finding  of  the  child  on  the  night  be 
fore,  arranging  at  the  same  time  for  the  inser 
tion  of  an  advertisement  in  the  t '  lost  and  found ' ' 
and  personal  columns  of  each,  describing  the 
child,  and  so  forth.  With  awakening  paternal 
care  he  stopped  on  his  way  home  at  the  house 
of  his  family  physician  and  laughingly  invited 
him  to  call  and  open  a  school  of  instruction,  with 
himself  and  wife  as  neophytes,  in  the  proper 
care  and  latest  improved  methods  of  rearing 
young  ones. 

Great  was  the  astonishment  of  the  Mannings ' 
neighbors  upon  opening  their  papers  Sunday 
morning,  to  read  therein  in  undubitable  print 
the  startling  story  of  the  unheralded  coming  of 
a  "ready  made"  family  to  the  occupants  of  the 
little  brick  cottage,  entirely  without  the  sanc 
tion  of  "the  storks."  And  many  and  various 
were  their  comments  thereon.  By  noon  there 
was  quite  a  steady  stream  of  men  and  women 
knocking  at  the  cottage  door,  some  calling  upon 
the  transparent  pretext  of  extending  belated 


LIFE  CHANGES  ITS  ASPECT  71 

Christmas  greetings,  others  openly  curious  in 
their  anxiety  to  ' l  get  a  good  look  at  it. ' '  Even 
the  children  caught  the  infection  of  interested 
curiosity;  and  in  their  endeavors  to  "spy  out" 
the  little  baby  Santa  Glaus  really  and  truly 
brought  down  the  chimney  after  carrying  it  all 
that  way  in  his  sleigh,  they  soon  had  the  cot 
tage  windows  all  around  worn  nearly  clear  of 
frost  by  their  little  hot  noses  and  nimbly-rub 
bing  fingers. 

They  argued  spiritedly  among  themselves 
for  and  against  the  admissibility  of  this  sup 
position,  the  youngest  ones  being  invariably 
for  and  the  older  ones  against  it;  until  Jim 
himself  being  appealed  to  as  their  " umpire,*' 
completely  routed  the  scoffers  by  solemnly 
avowing  that  old  Santa  had  certainly  brought 
it,  in  a  gorgeous  red  sleigh  drawn  by  eight  tiny 
reindeer  all  covered  with  snow  and  bells,  and 
had  graciously  asked  them,  right  to  their  faces, 
to  accept  it  as  their  Christmas  gift  from  him, 
he  having  brought  it  straight  down  from 
Heaven  not  half  an  hour  before  he  reached  the 
cottage.  This  caused  considerable  laughter 
among  some  of  the  visiting  * '  grown-ups, ' '  while 
others  of  them  looked  aside  and  by  their  slight 
nods  of  approval  and  moistening  eyes  showed 
their  understanding  of  and  sympathy  in  the 
loving  and  innocent  deception. 


72  ERIC  MAROTTE 

Altogether,  it  was  a  great  day  .for  "Goose 
Island, "  and  the  oldest  inhabitant  there,  still 
to  this  day,  chews  on  it  as  a  choice  morsel  of 
history,  with  which  she  is  ever  ready  to  regale 
one  upon  the  slimmest  provocation  or  excuse. 

The  doctor  came  in  the  afternoon,  and  upon 
examination  pronounced  their  little  god  a  per 
fectly  healthy  and  unusually  bright  and  pretty 
specimen,  and  opined  that  he  showed  little  or 
no  effect  of  his  "airy  trip  with  St.  Nicholas. " 
The  infant  himself  had  no  doubts  on  the  sub 
ject,  and  discovering  one  of  his  bare  feet  as  they 
undressed  him,  immediately  appropriated  it, 
with  a  vastly  selfish  assumption  of  possession, 
and  promptly  put  it  in  his  mouth;  then  grinned, 
much  to  the  edification  of  his  assembled  admir 
ers.  And  so  the  day  passed  and  the  quiet  win 
ter  night  came  on. 

Jim  and  Jemima  put  the  baby  between  them 
in  the  bed,  each  jealously  guarding  him  with  a 
gently  caressing  hand,  and,  tired  out  at  last 
by  the  day's  stirring  experiences,  floated  hap 
pily  down  the  river  of  enchanted  visions  into 
the  Land  of  Nod, 

"Like  one  who  wraps  the  drapery  of  his  couch 
About  him  and  lies  down  to  pleasant  dreams." 

****** 

Ten  short  years  have  passed  away.  In  due 
course  the  child  was  legally  adopted  by  them, 


LIFE  CHANGES  ITS  ASPECT  73 

and,  as  he  grew  to  the  age  of  perception,  was 
taught  to  regard  them  as  his  natural  parents. 
He  developed  a  tender,  clinging  disposition,  and 
was  never  so  happy  as  when  following  and  help 
ing  Jemima  about  the  little  house  and  garden 
or  riding  in  the  wagon  with  Jim, 

"And  the  child  grew  in  stature  and  wisdom  and  grace, 
And  the  light  of  intelligence  lit  up  his  face." 

On  his  sixth  birthday  he  entered  the  public 
graded  school  across  the  river,  there  being  none 
on  the  "Island,"  and  mingled  with  the  children 
of  the  surrounding  neighborhoods.  He  learned 
rapidly,  evidencing  a  mind  as  quick  and  bright 
as  that  of  any  white  child  in  his  classes,  and  at 
eleven  years  of  age  he  was  in  what  is  now  called 
the  eighth  (the  highest)  grade  of  the  common 
schools  and  was  the  youngest  scholar  in  his 
class.  In  those  early  days  the  school-room  desks 
and  wooden  benches  were  of  common  pine 
painted  green,  and  were  double,  the  two  seat- 
mates  of  each  being  physically  withheld  from 
too  close  communion  with  each  other  by  a  semi 
circular  hole  cut  in  the  middle  of  their  joint 
seat.  There  was  not  even  sex  segregation,  but 
girls  and  boys,  white  or  black,  were  assigned 
desks  together  promiscuously.  Not  until  the 
pupils  entered  high-school  were  single  desks  and 
sex  segregation  provided  and  enforced. 

With  their  new  incentive  to  greater  effort 


74  ERIC  MAEOTTE 

and  ambition,  Jim  and  Jemima  prospered  more 
and  more,  in  a  plodding  way,  and  the  former 
had  now  quite  a  fair-sized  paint  and  paper 
store  of  his  own  and  employed  skilled  workmen 
on  his  more  important  contracts. 

The  simplicity  and  religious  earnestness  of 
their  lives  remained  unchanged,  however,  and 
the  sunny,  cheery  atmosphere  of  their  home, 
their  firm  but  unselfish  treatment  of  the  child, 
and  the  qualities  of  gallantry,  honesty  and 
bravery  and  the  love  of  the  beautiful,  which 
they  constantly  inculcated  in  him,  made  his 
early  existence  a  far  more  ideal  one  than  gener 
ally  falls  to  the  lot  of  even  rich  men's  sons.  In 
a  word,  they  made  themselves  noble  and  happy 
by  making  him  so. 

Long  years  afterward  when  these,  his  foster- 
parents,  had  gone 

.     .     .     to  join 

The  innumerable  caravan  that  moves, 
To  the  pale  realms  of  shade,  where  each  shall  take 
His  chamber  in  the  silent  halls  of  death," 

the  sweet  and  sacred  memory  of  their  personal 
devotion  and  their  yearning  sympathy  with  his 
every  mood  and  dawning  emulation,  came  back 
to  him  in  many  a  quiet  hour  with  a  sustaining 
and  soothing  tranquillity,  and  he  felt  that  in  his 
darkest  days  of  doubt  and  trial  and  sorrow,  no 
matter  when  or  how  they  might  arise  or  come, 
he  could  ever  withdraw  in  silence  from  the  liv- 


LIFE  CHANGES  ITS  ASPECT  75 

ing  and  hold  heart-eased  communion  with  these 
two,  his  living  dead. 

He  had  been  christened  "John,"  because 
"by  the  grace  of  God"  he  was  sent  to  them  to 
fill  their  hungry  hearts  with  his  childhood's 
love  and  beauty. 

During  his  attendance  at  the  common  school 
and  up  to  the  time  of  his  entrance  into  high- 
school,  his  color  had  passed  without  comment, 
derogatory  or  otherwise,  as  he  was  a  favorite 
with  both  the  grown  people  and  the  children 
about  him,  all  of  whom  knew  and  respected  him. 
With  the  unwritten  democracy  of  childhood,  he 
was  accepted  and  sought  after  by  the  best  of 
the  boys  and  girls,  who,  having  grown  up  with 
him,  never  gave  the  disparity  of  his  race  a 
thought.  Nevertheless,  when  he  graduated  from 
the  neighborhood  school  and  took  up  his  further 
studies  at  the  old  "Central  High  School,"  situ 
ated  in  an  altogether  different  locality  (near 
West  Monroe  and  Halsted  streets),  and  where 
he  was  almost  a  stranger  to  the  advanced  schol 
ars  around  him,  he  sensed  a  perceptible  chang 
ing  of  conditions  and  noticed,  at  first  in  inno 
cent  wonder  and  then  with  quickening  shame, 
that  many  of  the  boys,  and  especially  of  the 
girls,  began  to  hold  themselves  aloof  from  him. 
Outside  the  old  Gothic,  cathedral-style,  rough- 
stone,  high-school  building,  with  its  antiquated 


76  ERIC  MAROTTE' 

windows  protected  by  small  diamond-shaped 
panes  of  glass  innumerable — even,  sometimes, 
on  the  adjacent  play-grounds,  certain  scholars 
affected  not  to  see  him;  and  occasionally  he 
would  overhear  in  passing  some  slurring  re 
mark  about  "colored  presumption"  or  "fresh 
nigger  boy." 

Deeply  hurt  at  heart  by  this  cruel,  if  callow, 
ostracism  and  unthinking  snobbishness,  he  was 
yet  too  proud,  too  ashamed,  and  too  fearful  of 
paining  their  loving  hearts  and  unselfish  na 
tures,  to  speak  of  it  to  his  foster-parents ;  and 
they  to  whom  he  should  naturally  have  gone  for 
comfort  and  philosophical  strength  in  this,  his 
first  great  despair,  were,  as  yet,  unconscious  of 
his  particular  and  psychological  need  of  them. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  QUARREL 

HEBE  was  one  boy,  the  son  of  a  well- 
to-do  West  side  butcher  and  a 
leader  in  the  school's  out-door 
sports,  though  of  a  slow  and  inat 
tentive  mind  in  his  studies,  who, 
gradually,  becoming  bolder  by  rea 
son  of  John's  quiet  ignoring  of  his 
veiled  taunts,  grew  openly  insulting,  and  made 
himself  more  obnoxious  to  him  than  all  the 
others.  They  belonged  in  the  same  classes,  hav 
ing  taken  the  same  course,  and  it  exasperated 
this  bumptious  youth  to  know  that  John  was 
usually  at  the  head  of  each  class  and  he  at  its 
foot.  It  was  his  surly  and  often-aired  opinion 
that  "no  d — d  dirty  little  nigger  could  pos 
sibly  have  brains  enough  to  outstrip  all  the 
white  boys  and  girls,  and  he  couldn't  have  done 
it  unless  he  cheated."  Some  of  the  scholars 
laughed  indifferently  at  his  occasional  tirades 
on  the  subject  and  reminded  him  that  he  would, 
no  doubt,  still  continue  to  stick  to  the  bottom 
of  the  class  (as  a  sort  of  foundation  "block 
head")  whether  John  remained  with  them  or 
not;  others  looked  pained,  and  flushed  at  the 

77 


78  ERIC  MAROTTE 

injustice  and  indelicacy  of  his  remarks.  But 
John,  who  was  purposely  and  maliciously  forced 
to  overpass  this  distressing  cant  of  caste  and 
11  color  line"  through  its  frequent  utterance 
in  his  immediate  presence,  though  never  ad 
dressed  directly  to  him,  felt  at  first  stunned 
and  helpless. 

Now,  as  it  has  been  proved  to  be  a  fallacious 
conclusion  that  an  innocent  person  wrongly  ac 
cused  of  a  crime  suffers  less,  upheld  by  his  own 
conscious  rectitude,  than  does  one  who  is  right 
ly  accused;  but  that,  on  the  contrary,  the  shame 
of  his  unfortunate  condition  is  the  more  intensi 
fied  by  his  horror  of  being  considered  capable 
of  an  act  from  which  every  fibre  of  his  being 
would  naturally  recoil;  while  the  real  guilty 
criminal,  perhaps  long  crime-hardened,  thinks 
only  of  escaping  through  well-worn  technicali 
ties  and  ample  perjury  the  lawful  punishment 
that  should  by  right  be  meted  out  to  him,  and 
wastes  little  or  no  energy  of  trepidation  on 
either  remorse  or  his  future  standing  in  the 
community  and  social  scale — so  poor  John,  a 
child  in  years  and  with  few  of  the  sustaining 
aphorisms  of  maturer  years  as  yet  reduced  by 
him  to  helpful  practice,  took  to  heart  these 
racial  insults  and  apostrophisings  all  the  more 
keenly  in  his  knowledge  that  they  were  heaped 
upon  him  because  of  no  fault  or  wrong-doing 


THE  QUARREL  79 

of  his  own,  but  simply  on  account  of  an  acci 
dent  of  descent  over  which  no  man  had  power, 
and  which  should  have  called  for  pity  and  not 
blame  on  the  part  of  others. 

The  secret  tears  of  grief  and  mortification 
which  he  shed,  however,  bore  in  time  their  own 
sure  fruit,  as  have  eventually  the  tears  of  the 
downtrodden  and  oppressed  through  all  past 
generations  of  man,  and  as  they  must  and  will  do 
from  century  to  century  while  time  and  man 
shall  last.  Because  of  such  tears  the  world  of 
men  is  infinitely  better  to-day  than  it  was  three 
thousand  years  ago,  and  will  be  infinitely  bet 
ter  three  thousand  years  from  now  than  it  is 
to-day.  For  the  tears  of  the  poor  and  uncon- 
sidered  but  water  and  nourish  the  blossoms  of 
progress;  and  the  longer  the  repression  of  so 
cial  and  commercial  justice,  of  bona  fide  legal, 
and  unsubverted  political,  equality  lasts,  the 
surer  and  greater  and  more  far-reaching  will 
be  their  final  reaction  upon  those  who  cannot  see 
' '  the  handwriting  upon  the  wall. ' ' 

This  ill-starred  son  of  a  butcher  was  cap 
tain  of  the  high-school  base-ball  nine  and,  in  a 
general  way,  the  bully  of  the  school.  He  could 
brook  no  opposition  in  his  cherished  field  of 
sport,  and  being  really  athletic  and  admittedly 
proficient  in  that  line,  to  be  sure,  seldom  met 
with  any.  His  father  slaughtered  cattle,  hogs 


80  ERIC  MAROTTE 

and  sheep  in  a  small  way  and  for  his  own  shop 
supplies,  and  the  boy  was  sometimes  called  up 
on  to  aid  him  in  the  capacity  of  his  assistant. 

Perhaps  this  early,  callousing  association 
with  pain  and  blood-shed  in  dumb  animals  made 
him  cruel;  perhaps  he  simply  exulted  in  his 
natural  strength  and  roughness;  but  he  cer 
tainly  had  a  habit  of  throwing  a  baseball  with 
unnecessary  swiftness  and  violence  at  short 
range  and  laughing  when  the  more  unsophisti 
cated  of  the  boys  cried  out  at  the  sting  it  gave 
their  hands  or  the  bumps  it  gave  to  the  other 
parts  of  their  anatomy  in  trying  to  catch  or 
dodge  it.  He  elected  himself,  justly  enough  so 
far  as  skill  counted,  to  the  position  of  pitcher 
in  the  school  nine,  and  he  had  1 1  got  onto ' '  some 
famous  curves  through  his  hobnobbing  with 
professional  ball  players,  whose  society  he 
much  affected.  On  the  whole,  he  was  the  boy- 
wonder  of  the  amateur  local  diamonds,  and  he 
had  an  ingrowing  ambition  to  become  a  regu 
lar  member  of  a  professional  team  as  soon  as 
he  could  induce  his  father  to  let  him  leave 
school,  which  he  detested  anyhow.  His  euphon 
ious  cognomen  was  Mr.  William  Brockhurst 
Stubbs,  Bill  Stubbs  for  short;  and  his  temper 
was  as  short  as  his  abbreviated  name. 

One  bright,  hot  Saturday  afternoon  this 
crack  high-school  nine  and  its  substitutes  and 


THE  QUARREL  81 

youthful  " rooters"  and  followers,  were  vali 
antly  foregathered  upon  the  glorious  field  of 
Olympian  contentions  commonly  known  as 
"Old  Man  Perkins'  Lot,"  a  vacant  block  about 
half  a  mile  west  and  south  of  the  school,  and 
whose  rickety  wooden  fence  all  around  the  four 
sides,  gave  to  it  some  semblance  of  a  full-fledged 
ball-park  where  an  admission  fee  is  charged. 

They  were  there  to  meet  and  ignobly  van 
quish  a  rival  ball  club  called  the  "Dirty  Stock 
ings,"  whose  very  tough  and  unsavory  reputa 
tion  had  undoubtedly  greatly  assisted  them  in 
reaching  the  proud  and  exalted  station  of 
"champeens"  of  all  West  side  juvenile  nines. 
Two  things  at  least,  about  them,  were  immedi 
ately  apparent,  even  to  a  casual  observer  of 
their  usual  field  tactics — they  assuredly  were 
not  "gentlemen"  and  they  certainly  could  play 
ball. 

John  now  "held  down"  first  base  in  the 
high- school  aggregation,  even  Captain  Stubbs 
being  compelled  to  acknowledge  that  the  school 
could  produce  no  one  capable  of  successfully 
replacing  him.  This  brought  him,  of  course, 
into  close  relations  with  young  Stubbs  when 
he  occupied  the  pitcher's  box;  and  many  a 
hot  throw  delivered  by  the  latter  with  unusual 
and  undue  viciousness  was  stopped  by  him  only 
by  exhibiting  quick  dexterity  and  coolness. 


82  ERIC  MAROTTE 

The  game  this  Saturady  afternoon  was  hotly 
contested  with  varying  fortunes;  until  in  the 
ninth  inning,  amid  the  encouraging  and  vilify 
ing  shout,  roars  and  hoots  of  the  crowd,  now 
largely  swelled  by  curious  passers-by  and  more 
elderly  "fans,"  the  "Dirty  Stockings "  suc 
ceeded  in  tying  the  score  in  the  first  half,  with 
the  "Central  High"  boys  yet  to  take  their  turn 
at  the  plate.  An  expectant  and  anxious  hush 
displaced  the  former  uproar  as  the  first  batter 
for  the  school  nine  nervously  took  his  stand 
over  the  home  base,  and  all  eyes  were  strained 
upon  the  infield.  Two  balls  were  called  on  him 
before  the  pitcher  of  the  rival  team  overcame 
his  unsettled  nerves  and  sent  the  sphere  whirl 
ing  in  so  swiftly  as  to  be  almost  invisible  in 
its  flight.  Then  came  a  sharp  crack  and  the  bat 
flew  over  the  ground  in  broken  splinters,  while 
the  ball  went  straight  up  in  the  air,  and  curv 
ing  backward  descended  directly  into  the 
catcher's  waiting  hands  (they  had  no  baseball 
gloves  or  mitts  in  those  days).  He  fumbled  it 
a  second  but  held  it  safe. 

"One  out!"  cried  the  umpire;  and  cursing 
his  luck  and  the  rotten  bat,  the  crestfallen  play 
er  slowly  made  way  for  the  next  man  on  the 
batting  list.  (At  this  early  period  in  the  his 
tory  of  amateur  baseball  the  different  players 
were  usually  called  to  bat  in  the  regular  order 


THE  QUARREL  83 

of  their  field  positions,  commencing  at  the 
game's  beginning  with  the  catcher,  and  ending 
with  the  left  fielder.) 

The  catcher  still  stood  well  back  from  the 
plate,  and  watching  his  chance,  the  second  man 
up  deftly  bunted  the  ball  down  close  in  front  of 
himself  and  reached  first  base  on  the  catcher's 
overthrow,  which  finally  landed  him  on  second. 
A  safe  hit  followed  and  first  and  third  bases 
were  filled,  with  only  one  man  out.  Captain 
Stubbs'  turn  at  the  bat  now  came,  and  hun 
dreds  cheered  him  on;  for  he  held  the  highest 
local  batting  average  of  the  season  for  all  the 
clubs.  Alas!  for  the  instability  of  youthful 
vanity; — after  two  tremendous  and  confident 
swipes  at  the  ball  the  doughty  captain  ignomin- 
iously  struck  out,  and  the  air  was  rent  by  the 
cat-calls  and  exulting  shrieks  of  the  "  Dirty 
Stockings'  '  friends  and  sympathizers,  many 
of  whom  had  themselves  no  stockings  at  all. 

"Two  out!"  "Two  out!"  "Hold  'em  down!" 
"They're  rattled!"  screamed  the  impromptu 
opposition  coaches.  "John — John  Manning," 
cried  the  huddled  and  flustered  school  nine. 
' '  For  God 's  sake,  don 't  let  'em  get  you ! "  "  It 's 
our  last  chance!"  Pale  but  quietly  he  ap 
proached  the  slab  and  stood,  like  "Horatius  at 
the  bridge" — ready  to  lead  their  forlorn  hopes, 
like  Caesar,  across  the  Rubicon  from  which 


84  ERIC  MAROTTE 

there  could  now  be  no  honorable  turning  back. 
The  raucous  voice  of  the  "ump"  broke  the 
stillness  of  the  awful  suspense. 

"One  strike"— "Tuh!" 
The  catcher  approached  so  close  up  .behind 
John  that  he  could  feel  his  quick  breath  upon 
the  back  of  his  neck.  With  the  last  hope  of  des 
peration  he  spat  on  his  hands  and  rubbed  their 
palms  in  the  dirt,  then  regrasping  the  stick  like 
a  drowning  man  clinging  to  a  life  preserver, 
he  planted  his  feet  firmly  and  well  apart, 
straining  his  muscles  for  the  final  whack  which 
he  must  get  in  to  save  the  day.  He  kept  his 
eyes  glued  to  the  left  hand  of  the  '  '  south-paw ' ' 
pitcher  in  the  box.  Swift  as  the  eagle's  flight, 
it  seemed  to  him,  came  the  ball,  directly  over 
the  plate ;  and  swifter  yet  it  rose,  and  flew  in  a 
beautiful  straight  line  clear  over  rightfield's 
head,  bounding  on  and  on  until  it  reached,  and 
hid  under,  the  farthest  fence. 

"Bun,  you  son  of  a  gun!"  "Bun!"  "Bun!" 
"Bun!"— "Second  base!"  "Go  it"— "Third 
now"  — "Third"  "No,  back!"  "Back!" 
' '  They  Ve  got  the  ball ! "  "  Oh ;  back  I  tell  you ! ' ' 
1  '  Slide  there— slide ! "  "  Look  out ! "  "  0,  they  Ve 
caught  him!" 

"Out  at  third!"  yelled  the  "master  of  desti 
nies,"  and  the  surging  crowd  subsided.     But 


THE  QUARREL  85 

John's  long  drive  had  brought  in  both  the  other 
men  on  base  and  the  game  was  won. 

Proud  and  perspiring,  he  picked  himself  up 
and  ran  back  to  the  improvised  benches,  to 
meet  there  the  welcoming  shouts  and  fraternal 
poundings  of  the  balance  of  his  successful 
team.  The  school  gang  grabbed  at  this  oppor 
tunity  for  hero-worship,  (that  enthusiasm  so 
dear  to  every  unspoiled  mortal)  and  lifted  him 
onto  a  platform  of  living  shoulders,  carrying 
him  through  the  crowd  and  in  triumph  down 
the  street,  with  deafening  sounds  of  victory  and 
acclaim  that  shamed  those  of  the  storied  Eoman 
amphitheatre  when  all  of  Gaul  was  thrall  to 
Caesar.  "Veni,  vidi,  vici!"  rang  out  their 
classic  cry  as  they  filled  the  air  with  caps  and 
hats. 

'Tis  not  a  little  thing,  this  early  taste  of  per 
sonal  glory  to  the  young.  The  pabulum  of 
hero-worship  forever  fed  to  their  awakening  in 
tellects  from  every  page  of  history,  mayhap 
needs  but  the  chance  incentive  of  some  such 
lauded  deed  of  momentary  importance  to  kindle 
into  useful  fire  their  dormant  passions.  The 
histories  of  all  nations  are  but  a  history  of  their 
leaders,  and  a  healthy  emulation  of  their  com 
posite  example  once  aroused,  may  find  its  ulti 
mate  goal  in  a  future  greatness  far  removed  in 


86  ERIC  MAROTTE 

nature  from  those  of  dawning  manhood's  first 
inspired  achievements. 

Yet  who  can  tell  in  what  sweet  hour 

Of  thoughtless  childish  fame 
The  immortal  spark  unnoted  fell 

From  which  the  soul  took  flame? 

Although  it  escaped  John's  notice  at  that 
exciting  time,  he  remembered  on  thinking  it 
over  afterwards  that  Bill  Stubbs  was  not 
among  those  who  congratulated  him  on  his  fine 
play,  but  was  curiously  absent  from  the  com 
pany  of  the  rest  of  the  students  during  the  re 
mainder  of  the  afternoon.  He  looked  eagerly 
for  him  when  the  class  was  again  assembled  in 
the  class-room  the  following  Monday  morning, 
and  was  surprised  to  discover  him  scowling  at 
him  over  the  top  of  his  text  book  with  a  glance 
of  malignant  hatred.  Open  and  fair-minded 
himself,  he  failed  to  comprehend  that  adolescent 
youths  (like  too  many  of  their  elders)  are  not 
given  to  analytical  justice  in  their  personal 
likes  and  dislikes,  and  are  just  as  apt  to  hate 
their  mental,  moral  or  physical  superiors,  as 
they  are  to  scorn  their  inferiors  in  those  differ 
ing  traits ;  or  to  put  it  plainly,  that  it  is  not  at 
all  necessary  to  be  wrong  in  order  to  be  dis 
liked  by  certain  persons  whose  natures  act  in 
exact  reversal  of  that  law  of  electricity  by  reason 
of  which  like  poles  repel  and  unlike  poles  at 
tract  each  other.  He  could  think  of  nothing  he 


THE  QUARREL  87 

had  done  to  incur  any  new  displeasure  on  the 
part  of  this  boy,  but  knowing  his  overbearing 
and  intolerant  disposition  toward  himself,  he 
resolved  to  ask  no  questions  and  await  his  ene 
my's  next  move  watchfully.  He  had  not  long 
to  wait. 

The  old  "Central  High-School, "  at  that  per 
iod  the  sole  high-school  building  in  Chicago, 
stood  south  and  directly  back  of  the  ancient 
Scammon  School,  the  former  fronting  on  Mon 
roe  street  and  the  latter  on  Madison  street;  so 
that  many  of  the  high-school  scholars  daily 
passed  through  the  yard  of  the  Scammon  to 
reach  their  own  school.  The  grade  of  both 
streets  had  been  considerably  raised  subsequent 
to  the  erection  of  the  two  edifices,  which  were 
among  the  oldest  of  their  kind  in  the  entire 
city.  Hence  it  was  necessary  to  go  down  sev 
eral  steps  to  get  from  the  sidewalk  to  either 
yard.  The  common  school  scholars  usually 
went  home  to  luncheon;  but  the  noon  recess  of 
the  high-school  being  a  short  one,  in  order  to 
permit  the  teachers  to  dismiss  their  classes  for 
the  day  at  the  early  hour  of  two-thirty,  and  the 
attendant  students  coming  there  from  all  parts 
of  the  city  instead  of  from  the  immediate 
school  district,  very  few  either  of  the  teachers 
or  the  students  attempted  to  go  liome  then,  but 
ate  out  of  the  lunch-boxes  they  brought  with 


88  ERIC  MAROTTE 

them  or  patronized  the  little  bakeshops  and 
restaurants  near  by  on  Halsted  and  Madison 
streets.  Their  favorite  noon  rendezvous  was, 
for  a  time,  a  small  German  "home"  bakery 
and  candy  and  ice  cream  shop  about  a  block 
south  on  Halsted  street.  In  the  strawberry  sea 
son  its  proprietor  always  had  fresh  steaming- 
hot  slices  of  strawberry  shortcake  of  rare  ex 
cellence  ready-exposed  in  tempting  array  up 
on  his  counters  at  twelve  o'clock  sharp.  (The 
old  high  school  edifice,  erected  in  1855,  still 
stands,  as  substantial  and  good  style  as  when 
first  built.  It  is  now  used  as  a  repair  shop  and 
storage  house  by  the  Board  of  Education.) 

The  minute  the  big  school  bell  rang  for  re 
cess  the  boys  would  snatch  their  hats,  fall  down 
the  stairs,  bolt  into  the  yard,  tumble  up  the 
steps  onto  the  sidewalk  any  way  and  every 
way  and  race  diagonally  across  both  streets 
for  this  shop,  as  if  the  life  of  every  mother's 
son  of  them  depended  upon  his  reaching  those 
shortcakes  ahead  of  all  the  rest.  The  old  baker 
was  phlegmatic  and  of  a  conservative  turn  of 
mind,  and  rarely  ever  baked  enough  cakes  to 
go  around,  as  he  had  then  the  present  cheap 
lunch  counter  owners'  economic  horror  of 
"left-overs,"  and  would  rather  disappoint  his 
customers  than  cook  one  portion  too  many.  So 
the  first,  panting  arrivals  among  the  boys 


THE  QUARREL  89 

would  invariably  snatch,  not  one,  but  two  or 
three  portions,  and  quickly  bite  a  hole  in  each 
to  dissuade  their  hungry  school-mates  from  tak 
ing  the  surplus  away  from  them  by  force,  as 
their  lawful  prizes. 

Many  a  good-natured  slap  and  scuffle  ensued 
from  this  original  stratagem,  but  those  who  got 
there  last  on  one  day  were  often  first  on  the 
next,  and  the  trailers  of  the  crowd,  as  a  rule, 
took  the  laugh  gracefully  and  filled  up  on  pie 
or  doughnuts,  or  any  other  indigestible  handy, 
thus  evening  up  the  current  stock  on  hand  of 
the  shop — much  to  the  secret  satisfaction  of 
the  baker,  who,  like  most  Germans,  was  "wise 
in  his  own  generation." 

I  have  no  idea  what  has  become  of  the  little 
bakery-shop  keeper,  but  I  am  sure,  if  he  made 
no  imprudent  outside  investments  and  if  he 
died  before  the  old  high-school  was  discontin 
ued,  he  must  have  died  rich.  "Let  him  E.  I.  P." 

Promptly  at  the  noon  hour  on  the  Monday 
after  the  ball  game,  John  started  for  the  bak 
ery  as  usual.  As  he  hustled  up  the  steps  on 
to  the  Monroe  street  walk  he  felt  his  feet  trip 
ped  from  behind,  and  he  fell  forward  on  his 
hands.  He  turned  quickly  and  found  Stubbs 
right  back  of  him.  He  was  sure  the  latter  had 
tripped  him  on  purpose,  but  passed  the  matter 
off  lightly,  as  simply  a  practical  joke.  Stubbs 


90  ERIC  MAROTTE 

bounced  into  the  shop  just  ahead  of  him,  and 
John,  in  accordance  with  recognized  usage, 
whipped  a  chunk  of  short-cake  out  of  the  for 
mer's  hand  and  bit  into  it;  when  Stubbs,  in  a 
towering  rage,  wheeled  on  him  and  deliberately 
struck  him  in  the  face.  Taken  completely  by 
surprise  by  this  uncalled-for  indignity,  John 
remained  immovable  for  a  second,  staring  at 
him  blankly.  Then,  the  hot  blood  rising  to  his 
forehead  under  the  insult,  he  seized  his  would- 
be  enemy  by  the  shoulder  and  said  angrily, 
but  firmly: 

4 'What  do  you  mean  by  that,  you  devil ?" 
"I  meant  to  push  your  ugly  face  in,  you 
black  thief, — I'll  teach  you  to  respect  your  bet 
ters — damn  you!"  shouted  Stubbs. 

Turning  deathly  white,  John  looked  hur 
riedly  around  on  the  astonished  and  expectant 
faces  of  the  crowd  of  boys — no  one  stirred  or 
spoke.  Frenzied  then  by  the  memory  of  all  the 
wrongs  he  had  suffered  at  the  hands  of  his  per 
sistent  insulter,  he  made  an  instant  leap  for 
Stubbs,  and  grasping  both  lapels  of  his  coat, 
jerked  him  roughly  forward  sidelong.  The  two 
were  standing  between  the  crowd  and  the  door 
at  the  moment,  and,  steeled  and  blinded  by 
his  honest  passion,  John's  attack  was  so  fierce 
and  sudden  that  his  opponent  was  thrown  clear 


THE  QUARREL  91 

through  the  doorway  and  fell  head-first  and 
heavily  on  the  stone  sidewalk  outside. 

John  rushed  at  him  again,  but  Stubbs  did 
not  rise.  He  lay  in  a  huddled  heap,  senseless 
and  still,  with  the  blood  flowing  from  a  deep 
cut  over  his  brow. 

The  other  boys,  who  had  pushed  out  after 
the  combatants,  stood  gaping  at  the  silent,  un- 
moving  form  in  stupefied  inaction.  John  was 
the  first  to  regain  the  full  use  of  his  senses. 
Sobered  and  alarmed  by  the  unanticipated  re 
sult  of  the  fight,  he  called  to  the  others  to  come 
and  help  him,  and  together  they  lifted  his  fallen 
foe  and  carried  him  back  into  the  living  room 
behind  the  shop,  where  they  laid  him  out  on  a 
lounge.  Hurrying  to  the  nearest  drug  store, 
John  secured  a  doctor,  fortunately  waiting 
there  for  a  street  car,  and  brought  him  to  the 
shop.  Pushing  his  way  through  the  group 
about  the  injured  boy,  the  latter  inspected  his 
wound  cursorily  and  applied  restoratives.  In 
a  little  while  his  patient  showed  signs  of  return 
ing  consciousness;  and,  on  the  doctor 's  assur 
ing  him  no  serious  consequences  from  the  fall 
need  be  apprehended,  John  gave  him  Stubbs' 
house  address  so  he  could  take  him  home  in  a 
hack  later.  The  rest  of  the  boys  had  left  on 
hearing  the  German's  cuckoo  clock  chirp  the 
half  hour  that  told  them  school  was  waiting  for 


92  ERIC  MABOTTE 

them,  and  now  John,  unwilling  to  embarrass 
Stubbs  with  his  presence  upon  his  regaining 
consciousness,  followed  them  slowly  schoolward 
with  a  disturbed  and  saddened  mind. 

Bill  Stubbs  did  not  return  to  school  that  af 
ternoon,  and  the  startling  news  of  the  bakery 
shop  scrimmage  soon  spread  through  all  the 
class-rooms,  as  thoroughly  as  if  each  youthful 
ear  were  equipped  with  a  wireless  receiving  sta 
tion.  Everybody  but  the  teachers  knew  of  it 
within  fifteen  minutes  of  the  opening  of  the  af 
ternoon  session.  Disagreeably  sensible  of  the 
curious,  half -admiring  glances  covertly  directed 
towards  him  as  occasion  offered,  John  could  no 
longer  study.  He  was  glad  when  at  last  the 
bell  rang  for  dismissal.  He  avoided  all  the 
others  in  going  out  and  went  straight  home 
alone  to  tell  his  parents  what  had  occurred.  His 
young  heart  was  heavy  and  his  thoughts  con 
fused  and  purposeless,  and  he  longed  for  their 
loving  comforting  and  true  advice. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

"LITTLE  SUNSHINE" 

LOSE  by  John's  home  was  a  very 
respectable-sized  brewery  which, 
started  originally  in  a  small  way  by 
an  uneducated  but  practical  and 
thrifty  German  who  had  learned  well  his  trade 
in  dem  Vaterland,  was  now  rapidly  increasing 
its  output  and  growing  up  with  the  city.  Its 
owner,  although  the  hardest  worker  about  the 
place,  was  noted  far  and  near  for  his  extraordi 
nary  good  nature  and  unfailing  kindness  of 
heart.  This  Ernest  Hummelmueller,  unlike 
most  of  his  nationality,  had  but  one  child,  a 
girl  about  a  year  older  than  John. 

It  would  take  a  more  gifted  pen  than  mine 
adequately  to  describe  this  girl.  One  was 
tempted  at  first  simply  to  exclaim  in  the  words 
of  a  society  woman  who  once  saw  her  at  a 
school  commencement:  " Where  did  she  come 
from?  She's  a  raging,  tearing  beauty !" 

She  was  idolized  by  her  father  and  regarded 
by  her  mother  with  a  sort  of  reverential  awe, 
(just  as  some  gray  mother  goose  might  have 
regarded  a  transmuting  cygnet  she  had  unwit 
tingly  hatched  out)  and  was  waited  upon  by 

93 


94  ERIC  MAROTTE 

both  parents  in  an  eager  and  apologetic  man 
ner  that  would  have  been  laughable  and  ridicu 
lous  had  it  not  been  so  pathetic.  They  seemed 
to  think  her  some  superior  being  merely  lent  to 
them  for  this  life  by  the  gods  and  to  be  strictly 
accounted  for  to  them  hereafter.  She  was  taller 
than  most  boys  of  her  own  age,  lithe  and 
strong,  with  a  light,  clear,  yet  tawny  skin 
cooling  to  the  touch,  and  limbs  and  torso  like 
an  infant  goddess.  Her  heavy  tresses  were  of 
a  dark  Titian  red,  and  running  through  the 
darker  shades  were  innumerable  hairs  so  nearly 
approaching  real  gold  in  color  that  the  effect 
of  the  whole  was  startlingly  beautiful.  This 
peculiarity  led  later  on,  as  she  grew  older  and 
was  more  frequently  observed  in  public  and  so 
ciety,  to  her  being  designated  as  the  "Bed-Gold 
Girl." 

Her  manner  was  peculiarly  fascinating  in  its 
originality  and  piquancy.  She  had  the  initia 
tive  and  force  of  those  brotherless  girls  who 
seem  to  inherit  the  mentality  of  their  fathers, 
unconsciously  assuming  the  prerogatives  and  as 
similating  the  practicalities  of  the  non-exist 
ent  male  heir.  Of  a  bold  and  sanguine  tem 
perament,  her  every  feature  was  yet  lyric  with 
a  spirituelle,  mercurial  grace.  She  was  forward 
with  that  modesty  of  innocence  which  attracts 
without  repelling.  She  was  manly,  not  mannish 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE  95 

— womanly,  not  womanish.  Her  voice  was 
caressing  and  melodious,  with  a  compelling 
cadence  and  timbre  that  thrilled  and  drew  one. 
She  moved  with  a  jaunty,  swinging  step  that 
seemed  to  march  to  martial  music. 

Of  an  imaginative  and  romantic  disposition, 
she  lived  largely  in  an  atmosphere  of  her  own 
creation.  This  may  or  may  not  have  accounted 
for  her  escape  from  the  evils  of  coquetry  and 
self-conceit  and  waywardness,  which  must  nec 
essarily  have  been  developed  in  her  under  such 
circumstances,  (as  would  undoubtedly  have 
been  the  case  with  any  other,  ordinary,  girl). 
But  withal  and  in  spite  of  all,  she  remained 
loving,  obedient  and  natural,  and  altogether 
adorable. 

Her  heart  was  very  tender,  and  her  strong 
est  and  most  noticeable  attribute  was  her  in 
nate  sense  of  justice.  The  passionate  stamp  of 
her  little  foot,  the  royal  toss  of  her  head  and 
the  imperious  tones  of  her  clear  voice,  as  she 
commanded  instant  cessation  of  any  unkind  act 
she  saw,  towards  human  being  or  dumb  animal, 
compelled  automatic  obedience.  It  alone  dis 
closed  the  queenly  temper  hidden  beneath  her 
usual  serene  exterior  and  childish  ways. 

Her  features  were  regular,  but  with  a  regu 
larity  of  their  own  more  pleasing  than  any  ac 
cepted  ideal  or  model  of  either  the  old  masters 


96  ERIC  MABOTTE 

or  the  moderns.  Her  eyes,  large,  deep  and  con 
templative,  belied  the  wanton  glory  of  her  hair 
and  the  voluptuous,  rosy,  yet  slightly  tawny 
fairness  of  her  youthfully-rounded  face,  and 
were  jetty  black  and  full  of  seriousness. 

But  the  crowning  glory  of  her  whole  appear 
ance  was  her  teeth.  Such  teeth ! — so  exquisitely 
shaped — so  superbly  set,  and  brought  into  a 
thousand  different  enrapturing  views  by  the 
ever-changing  framing  of  her  mobile  lips. 
When  she  smiled  or  gently  laughed,  the  watch 
ing  eye  hung  fascinated  on  their  dreamy, 
gleaming  lines,  and  strove  in  vain  to  analyze 
their  charm;  until  her  lips  closed  over  them 
again  like  ruby  curtains  shutting  out  a  glimpse 
of  Paradise;  and  one  sighed,  as  if  awakened 
from  a  tantalizing,  uncompleted  vision. 

If  ever  there  grew  a  human  rose,  without  a 
thorn,  this  wondrous  maid  was  one.  Her  name 
was  Gretchen  Ernestine,  but  her  father  always 
called  her  his  "Kleiner  Sonnenschein,"  and  the 
name  so  fitted  both  her  looks  and  nature  that 
all  who  once  heard  it,  ever  after  adopted  that 
endearing  appellation  in  speaking  of  her. 

The  brewer 's  home,  as  was  common  in  the 
earlier  days  of  Chicago,  was  built  nearly  ad 
jacent  to  the  grounds  of  the  brewery  itself,  so 
that  Gretchen  was  naturally  as  familiar  with,  and 
as  much  at  home  in,  one  place  as  the  other. 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE  97 

Several  such  homes,  rearing  their  odd-fash 
ioned  facades  in  close  proximity  to  long  estab 
lished  breweries,  far  isolated  from  the  better 
class  of  residences  and  deserted  by  the  more 
exacting  children  of  their  former  occupants  for 
more  congenial  neighborhoods,  may  still  be 
pointed  out  in  that  great  city — domestic  monu 
ments  to  the  pioneering  spirit  of  those  hardy, 
hard-headed  immigrants  who  reaped  there  the 
first  substantial  fruits  of  their  home  training, 
transplanted  to  a  foreign  soil. 

Gretchen  and  John  had  been  playmates  since 
the  first  dawning  of  childhood 's  reason;  they 
had  graduated  together  from  the  same  common 
school  and  were  now  in  the  same  year  in  high- 
school.  When  others  of  the  scholars  in  the 
latter  place  had  changed  towards  him,  she  had 
not,  and  on  the  day  of  Stubbs'  signal  eclipse 
she  smiled  encouragingly  at  John  across  the 
class-room,  while  her  eyes  snappd  with  her  sup 
pressed  satisfaction  over  the  sudden  retribution 
visited  upon  the  bully  by  him  for  his  accumula 
tion  of  insults.  While  he  felt  sad,  she  was 
glad. 

She  ran  after  John  as  he  hurried  home  from 
school  that  day  and  caught  up  with  him  half 
way. 

"Oh,  John!  wait  for  me,"  she  panted,  out 
of  breath  from  running.  "Don't  think  7  blame 


98  ERIC  MAROTTE 

you;  you  were  perfectly  right  in  what  you  did. 
I  have  often  admired  your  self-command  under 
the  continued  abuse  of  that  over-bearing  fel 
low;  yet  I've  felt  all  along  that  the  clash  must 
come,  sooner  or  later,  and  I  am  so  glad  now 
that  you  triumphed/' 

John  turned  about  with  a  mortified  face  in 
which  reassurance  began  to  struggle  forth.  He 
held  out  his  hand. 

"Ever  just  to  everyone  and  always  true  to 
me,  Little  Sunshine,"  he  said.  "You  are  too 
kind;  I'm  afraid  I  did  wrong,  but  the  provoca 
tion  was  insupportable  and  I  lost  my  temper." 

"Poor  boy;  how  you  must  have  suffered.  I 
have  often  bitten  my  lips  in  vexation  at  your  re 
strained  silence ;  I  could  never  have  held  myself 
in  so  long  in  your  place. ' ' 

"You  must  remember  my  unfortunate  posi 
tion  in  the  matter,  Gretchen,  and  then  you  will 
understand  my  helplessness  to  retort.  I  could 
not  act  before." 

She  looked  down,  a  pained  expression  on 
her  face  and  a  great  longing  in  her  eyes. 

"Oh!  if  only  it  were  not  so,"  she  murmured 
to  herself,  sotto  voce. 

They  walked  on  side  by  side  unspeaking. 
each  one  self-absorbed  in  thought.  Presently 
she  looked  up,  and  catching  his  doubtful  eye, 
burst  into  a  rippling  laugh. 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE  99 

"Of  course  it  is  a  serious  matter,  John,"  she 
smiled  roguishly,  "but  I  can't  help  laughing 
at  Bill  Stubbs'  discomfiture  and  thinking  how 
mad  he  must  be;  Ha!  ha!  ha!  ha!  He  will  now 
be  able  to  appreciate  the  application  to  his  own 
case  of  that  fine  old  adage,  'Whom  the  gods 
would  destroy  they  first  make  mad'; — only  he 
can  substitute  'pride*  for  'the  gods'." 

John  gave  her  a  grateful  glance  in  reply. 
They  approached  her  home,  and,  with  a  loyal 
pressure  of  his  hand,  she  ran  up  the  front  flight 
of  steps.  After  he  had  passed  on  she  shyly 
watched  his  retreating  form,  and  noted  the 
heavy  dejectedness  of  his  air,  the  absence  of  his 
usual  buoyancy  of  carriage.  Her  face  clouded 
involuntarily,  and  turning  with  a  sigh  she 
slowly  entered  the  house.  There  was  no  one 
but  the  cook  at  home,  and  she  was  busy  with 
her  pots  and  pans  back  in  the  kitchen.  Gret- 
chen  walked  from  room  to  room  disconsolate 
and  ill-at-ease;  then  selected  a  book  from  the 
black  walnut  book-case  and  sat  down  by  a  front 
window  to  read. 

She  tried  to  interest  herself  in  the  author's 
tale,  but  all  her  thoughts  were  elsewhere  and 
her  eyes  constantly  wandered  from  its  text  to 
the  tops  of  the  trees  just  visible  over  the  roofs 
of  the  houses  in  the  nearby  street,  and  which 
she  knew  marked  the  place  of  John's  abode. 


100  ERIC  MAROTTE 

She  had  always  liked  and  admired  him  as  a 
child;  they  had  been  play-fellows  and  mental 
associates  since  long  before  their  school  days 
began;  but  the  shadow  of  the  " color  line"  had 
not  fallen  upon  their  young  lives  until  within 
the  last  few  months.  The  crisis  had  been  slow 
in  coming,  but  the  disastrous  culmination  of 
the  boy  Stubbs'  persecutions  had  brought  the 
vexed  question  to  a  head  and  thoroughly  awak 
ened  her  to  the  realization  of  the  social  gulf  that 
lay  between  herself  and  John,  whom  she  was, 
however,  wholly  unwilling  to  give  up.  She  be 
gan  to  see  that  much  hostile  criticism  must  un 
avoidably  be  displayed  against  their  going  to 
gether  as  they  became  older,  and  her  tender 
heart  was  grieved,  more  for  him  than  for  her 
self.  It  had  never  occurred  to  her  to  "cut  him 
dead"  and  "drop  him."  She  was  far  from 
fashionably  brought  up,  and  had  not  that  self 
ish,  calculating  coolness  of  regard  and  utter 
abandonment  to  the  main  chance  which  so  gen 
erally  characterizes  the  children  of  the  beau 
monde  and  their  socially  ambitious  mothers. 

She  tried  to  puzzle  out  and  solve,  as  many 
an  older  and  wiser  head  than  hers  had  tried 
before  and  still  is  trying  to  do,  the  race  ques 
tion;  but  with  this  difference,  that,  while  others 
tried  to  improve  and  elevate  the  status  of  a 
whole  race,  she  herself  was  actuated  by  her 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE  101 

sincere  affection  in  seeking  a  greater  happiness 
for  one  particular  member  who  suffered  inno 
cently  from  the  stigma  of  belonging  to  a  race  to 
whose  conditions  he  was  fast  rising  superior. 
She  sat  long  by  the  window,  buried  in  reveries 
half  sorrowful,  half  pleasant,  until  the  descend 
ing  shades  of  twilight  wrapped  the  world  in 
softened  gloom  and  the  printed  lines  of  her 
open  book  faded  slowly  from  her  sight. 

She  was  aroused  suddenly  from  her  abstrac 
tion  by  a  gentle  touch  upon  her  arm,  and  start 
ing  to  her  feet  in  vague  alarm,  saw  John  stand 
ing  diffidently  before  her,  hat  in  hand.  The 
gathering  darkness  scarce  sufficed  to  hide  her 
rising  color  as  she  stood  up  with  that  conscious 
feeling  of  mortification  that  comes  over  us  when 
apparently  detected  in  our  thoughts  of  some  ab 
sent  one  by  that  person's  unheralded  appear 
ance. 

"Did  I  startle  you?  I'm  sorry, "  said  John. 
"I  rang  the  door-bell  and  knocked  too,  but  no 
one  appeared,  and  as  I  saw  you  alone  at  the 
window  I  ventured  to  come  in  unannounced. 
The  drawing  room  door  was  open  to  the  hall, 
and  I  trod  heavily  to  attract  your  attention; 
but  your  thoughts  were  too  busy  far  away  to 
notice  me. 

4  *  What  were  your  day  dreams  about,  Gretch- 
en  ?  Some  fairy  prince  of  far  Cathay  ? ' ' 


102  ERIC  MAROTTE 

"No,  John;  I  have  outgrown  all  my  fairy 
princes  and  shall  keep  my  heart  unplighted  for  a 
prince  of  earth, "  she  answered. 

"I  would  I  were  a  prince  then." 

"You  are." 

"Then  won't  you  let  me  enter  the  lists  for 
you?" 

"That  depends;  'only  the  brave  deserve  the 
fair'." 

"You  don't  know  how  really  brave  I  am; 
if  you  are  ever  in  danger  I'll  quickly  prove 
my  claim.  Just  try  me." 

"My  curiosity  is  very  great,  but  the  true 
knight  should  show  his  love  by  keeping  his  lady 
out  of  danger;  not  by  tempting  her  into  it," 
she  replied  gaily.  "But,  seriously  speaking, 
John,  have  you  told  your  parents  about  the 
Stubbs  affair  yet?" 

"Yes  and  they  were  very  much  disturbed 
over  it  at  first ;  but  when  I  told  them,  as  I  never 
had  before,  of  all  the  abuse  and  affronts  piled  on 
me  for  the  past  months  by  him  and  his  obse 
quious  followers  and  toadies,  they  were  shocked 
and  indignant,  and  said  I  did  just  right. 

"Father  will  see  Mr.  Stubbs,  senior,  tomor 
row  and  explain  the  whole  thing  to  him :  I  feel 
greatly  relieved,  and,  as  I  must  have  seemed  so 
dull  and  blue  to  you  this  afternoon,  I  ran  over 
at  once  to  show  you  that  'Richard  is  himself 


LITTLE  SUNSHINE  103 

again.'  0  Gretchen!  how  good  you  are  to  me; 
how  nobly  you  trusted  and  helped  me  in  my 
distress ! ' ' 

"When  I  do  not  it  will  be  your  own  fault, 
John,  and  I  hope  that  time  may  never  come." 

She  held  out  both  her  hands  to  him  and  he 
bent  over  them  and  raised  them  to  his  lips  in 
reverence. 

"  You  are  becoming  quite  a i  gay  gallant/  I'm 
afraid,"  she  laughed;  "won't  you  stay  to  sup 
per;  Papa  will  be  here  very  soon,  and  I  know 
he  will  be  glad  to  have  you?" 

"No,  thank  you — I  promised  to  be  back  home 
again  in  a  few  minutes  and  I  want  to  be  with 
my  father  and  mother  to-night.  They're  wor 
ried  about  me  and  won't  eat  a  bite  till  I  get 
back;  so  I'll  have  to  say  good-bye  now." 

She  accompanied  him  to  the  great  house-door, 
and  giving  his  hand  a  sympathetic  little 
squeeze,  pushed  him  jokingly  down  the  steps, 
telling  him,  "To  run  along  home  and  look  in 
the  first  mirror  he  found,  and  he  would  see  a 
*  bonny  laddie'  whom  she  liked." 

He  turned  back  abruptly  half  way  down  the 
steps,  at  this  frankly  affectionate  command,  and 
raised  one  foot  in  indecision;  but  she  had  run 
into  the  house  in  confusion  and  slammed  the 
door  to.  He  went  on  with  a  strangely  light 
ened  heart. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"FOOLS  RUSH  IN  WHERE  ANGELS  FEAR 
TO  TREAD" 

HEN  John's  father  called  next 
morning  on  Stubbs  senior  to 
express  his  regret  for  their 
boys'  quarrel,  the  latter  was 
at  first  inclined  to  take  up  the 
cudgels  for  his  own  son  and 
to  insist  upon  John's  arrest  for  assault.  But 
he  was  speedily  convinced  against  his  will  that 
Bill  had  struck  the  first  blow  and  that  his  prior 
inimical  actions  would  tell  against  his  case  and 
in  John's  favor  in  any  justice  court  trial,  and 
the  latter  could  not  be  convicted  in  the  face  of 
the  multitude  of  witnesses  for  his  side  that 
would  voluntarily  appear.  He  was,  too,  im 
pressed  by  the  forceful  and  quiet  determination 
of  Jim  Manning,  and  felt  intuitively  that  the 
colored  man  would  defeat  them  if  they  tried  it 
on.  So  he  thought  better  of  it  and  dropped  the 
idea  of  open  retaliation  as  at  present  impracti 
cal  and  ill-advised.  Affairs  resumed  their  hab 
itual  course  and  sequence  at  the  school  and 
the  fight  soon  ceased  to  be  an  "  eight-day  won 
der"  there. 

104 


FOOLS  RUSH  IN  105 

After  Stubbs'  return  to  his  class-work  the 
feeling  between  the  two  boys  was  not  improved 
by  the  fact  that  that  young  man,  who  was  badly 
smitten  with  Gretchen's  charms,  began  to  note 
more  frequently  that  she  preferred  John's  com 
pany  to  his  own.  To  be  cut  out  by  a  "nigger," 
he  considered  an  incomprehensible  personal  af 
front,  especially  as  most  of  the  other  girls 
"toadied"  to  him  and  he  posed  as  the  beau 
par-excellence  of  the  whole  school. 

In  his  vain  attempts  to  "win  her  for  his  best 
girl,"  he  repeatedly  wrote  notes  to  her,  which, 
with  the  free-masonry  of  the  young,  were  clan 
destinely  passed  from  hand  to  hand  under  the 
intervening  desks  until  they  reached  her;  but 
if  she  read  them  at  all,  she  certainly  dispatched 
to  him  no  replies  by  that  same  "underground 
railway. ' '  He  several  times  verbally  and  point 
edly  solicited  an  invitation  to  escort  her  home 
from  school;  but  invariably  she  politely  de 
clined  the  offer,  saying  it  was  too  far  out  of 
his  way,  and  that  John  was  going  past  her 
house  and  would  be  sufficient  "protection"  for 
her.  This  enraged  him  all  the  more,  and  he 
vowed  he  would  "lay  for  that  cheap  'coon'  and 
' get  him'  at  the  earliest  opportunity,  and  would 
humble  the  'stuck-up'  girl's  pride  at  the  same 
time." 

' '  Goose  Island, ' '  as  may  be  seen  from  a  map 


106  ERIC  MAROTTE 

of  the  city  of  Chicago,  is  an  elliptical  body  of 
land  formed  by  the  division  at  Chicago  avenue 
of  the  north  branch  of  the  Chicago  Eiver  into 
two  arms  or  parts,  which  diverging  in  their 
northwest  extension  until  they  reach  Division 
street,  there  begin  to  converge,  until  they  meet 
at  North  avenue  and  become  again  one  stream. 
Thus  the  waters  about  the  " island"  form  a 
sort  of  turning-basin,  so  that  boats  passing  up 
stream  and  unshipping  their  cargoes  on  the 
banks  of  either  branch,  can,  without  turning 
around,  proceed  to  the  northern  apex  of  the 
delta,  where  the  circular  shape  of  the  island  and 
the  doubling  together  of  the  two  arms  of  the 
river  leave  abundance  width  of  channel  to  en 
able  them  to  steer  about  into  the  opposite  course 
and  head  south  again.  In  general  outline  this 
tract  of  land  is  not  unlike  an  immense  flat  goose 
egg,  one  mile  long,  and  half  a  mile  wide  at  its 
extreme,  or  equatorial,  diameter — hence  its 
whimsically  appropriate  name  of  "  Goose 
Island. " 

The  easterly  branch  of  the  river  formerly 
did  not  exist.  It  came  into  existence  right  after 
the  Great  Chicago  Fire,  and  was  originally  ex 
cavated  to  furnish  clay  for  the  brick  yards  then 
situated  there  and  which  were  pressed  for 
bricks  to  rebuild  the  burnt  city.  Later  on  the 
United  States  Government  took  jurisdiction 


FOOLS  RUSH  IN  107 

over  it  as  navigable  water  and  the  turning  basin 
was  dredged  out  to  its  present  extensive  dimen 
sions,  at  the  north  end  of  the  "Island." 

Access  to  the  island  was  formerly  had  and 
still  was  at  a  very  recent  date,  by  two  "swing" 
bridges  of  wood  where  North  Halsted  street 
crosses  each  arm  of  the  river  in  succession,  and 
by  two  other  similar  bridges  crossing  them  in 
the  same  way,  but  east  and  west,  at  Division 
street.  A  railroad  bridge,  also,  enters  the  island 
at  its  North  avenue  end;  and  spanning  the  re 
joined  branches,  at  North  avenue,  just  across 
from  the  extreme  northern  end  of  the  "island" 
itself,  is  still  another  wagon-bridge,  connecting 
the  north  and  west  sides  of  the  city.  Several 
private  "jack-knife"  bridges,  seldom  used, 
gape  on  the  more  easterly,  and  more  canal-like, 
branch  at  short  intervals.  Up  to  nearly  the 
time  at  which  this  story  ends,  all  of  these  va 
rious  bridges  were  turned  by  hand,  and,  with 
the  exception  of  the  most  southerly  of  the  two 
Halsted  street  spans,  lay  close  to  the  water  and 
had  to  be  opened  for  the  passage  even  of  small 
tugboats. 

It  has  long  been  the  custom  for  the  city,  as 
fast  as  it  builds  new  and  more  modern  bridges 
over  the  main  stream  of  the  river  and  across 
the  lower  portion  of  the  South  Branch  above 
the  fork  at  Market  street,  to  move  the  old 


108  ERIC  MABOTTE 

bridges  up  the  two  branches,  in  order  to  give 
additional  crossing  facilities  or  replace  the  still 
poorer  and  cruder  bridges  already  in  place 
there,  and,  therefore,  those  connecting  "  Goose 
Island "  with  the  circumscribing  "  mainland " 
have  always  been  in  various  chronic  stages  of 
dilapidation  and  antiquatedness ;  and  more  fre 
quently  than  not  in  the  past,  one  or  more  of 
them  were  out  of  commission  altogether.  In 
the  latter  case  those  who  used  to  live  or  work 
on  the  "Island"  had  to  make  shift  with  boats 
and  rafts  to  reach  their  morning  and  evening 
destinations ;  and,  also,  what  was  a  more  serious 
consideration,  the  danger  of  destructive  fires 
among  the  extensive  lumber  yards  early  estab 
lished  there,  was  greatly  increased  by  the  diffi 
culty  and  uncertainty  of  getting  the  fire-engines 
across  from  the  "mainland."  The  city,  at  the 
time  of  which  I  speak,  owned  no  fire-boats  at  all. 
Several  disastrous  fires  did  occur  there,  from 
time  to  time;  until  an  alarm  from  that  district 
had  come  to  be  the  terror  and  dread  of  the 
whole  fire  department. 

The  original  dwelling  houses  of  "Goose 
Island"  consisted  almost  entirely  of  one  and 
two-storied,  shapeless,  wooden  shanties  set  up 
on  post  foundations  and  fairly  filling  three  or 
four  short,  narrow  streets  (which  were  never 
swept)  at  the  south  end  of  the  "Island,"  and 


A    CHARACTERISTIC     BIT    OF    GOOSE    ISLAND 


FOOLS  RUSH  IN  109 

interspersed  among  them  were  occasional  low 
and  dirty  saloons,  dialectically  called  "gin 
mills, ' '  in  many  of  which  the  wife  of  the  propri 
etor  acted  as  bar-maid,  in  the  old  country  man 
ner.  The  majority  of  these  unpretending 
"homes"  still  remain  standing,  in  shabby  ir 
regular  rows,  with  grassless,  obstructed  yards 
abutting  rotting  sidewalks,  unpaved,  rock- 
strewn  roadways,  or  "plank  roads"  and  infre 
quent,  unkempt,  garbage-encumbered  alleys. 
They  are  shaded  here  and  there  by  old,  old  wil 
low  trees,  some  having  trunks  twice  as  thick 
as  the  body  of  a  large  man,  that  still  draw  a 
stinted  subsistence  from  the  sterile  soil  and 
loom  against  the  background  of  the  sky  like 
gnarled  and  twisted  historians  of  a  departed 
Nature.  There  were  then  no  gas  mains  on  the 
"Island,"  and  there  are  none  to  this  day. 

As  far  as  the  eye  can  penetrate  between  its 
nondescript  structures,  not  a  blade  of  grass  can 
be  seen  on  all  the  "island,"  which  appears  to 
have  been  blighted  by  unlovely  commercialism 
and  sown  with  its  cinders  and  ashes  and  debris 
till  not  a  flower  will  bloom  there. 

Its  "inhabitants"  are  the  poorest  of  the  poor. 
The  women  and  children  poke  around  the  saw 
dust  heaps  for  small  pieces  of  timber  and  bark 
to  use  for  fire-wood,  and  men  can  be  observed 
sculling  about  the  river  in  flat-bottomed  boats 


110  ERIC  MAROTTE 

fishing  for  drift-wood.  Other  women  and  chil 
dren  busy  themselves  picking  up  coals  dropped 
along  the  main  streets  by  the  coal  wagons  start 
ing  from  the  docks  and  those  dropped  from  the 
trains  along  the  complicated  network  of  rail 
road  tracks.  Nothing  is  allowed  by  them  to  be 
wasted. 

The  entire  aspect  and  general  atmosphere  of 
the  "Island"  and  the  adjacent  shores  of  the 
mainland,  is  picturesque,  both  in  the  character 
istic  and  blended  outlines  of  the  great  variety  of 
manufacturing  plants  and  storage  yards,  the 
masts  and  the  hulls  of  the  shipping,  and  the 
fantastically-piled  lumber,  and  in  the  European 
appearance  of  the  poverty-stricken  residence 
streets  with  bedding  hanging  from  the  windows 
of  their  houses  in  the  day  time.  The  sky  line 
is  diversified  by  tall  chimney-stacks  and  towers, 
long  elevators,  square  factories,  upreared 
"jack-knife"  bridges,  immense,  round  gas  res 
ervoir  tanks,  coal-hoisting  cranes  and  dumps, 
the  spars  and  funnels  of  vessels  and  the  ele 
phantine  outlines  of  the  great  hulls  undergoing 
repairs  in  dry-docks.  By  night  the  fitful,  puls 
ing,  flaring  reflection  on  the  sky  from  the  flame - 
topped  chimneys  brings  out  in  sinister  relief 
these  myriad  shapes. 

Except  on  Sundays,  the  air  is  shrouded  in  a 
pall  of  sun-obscuring  smoke  and  dust  and  noise- 


FOOLS  RUSH  IN  111 

some  heat;  the  streets  are  unsprinkled,  and  the 
dust  of  a  thousand  years  of  toil  seems  to  eddy 
about  the  colorless,  weird-shaped  buildings  and 
whirl  along  the  narrow  thoroughfares,  and  to 
drift  across  the  heartless,  dreary,  prosaic  wastes. 
In  spite  of  its  picturesqueness  and  its  art  values 
from  the  painter's  standpoint,  one  involuntarily 
shivers  in  passing  through  it,  as  if  passing 
through  the  graveyard  of  romance. 


One  sultry  summer  afternoon  just  before 
sundown  a  denser  smoke  than  usual  began  to 
waft  across  the  reddening  western  rays  and  an 
odor  of  smouldering  wood  attacked  by  slow 
degrees  the  nostrils.  This  change  in  the  air, 
which  would  have  been  more  quickly  noted  in 
a  clearer  part  of  the  city,  came  on  so  gradually 
that  it  was  some  fifteen  minutes  before  any 
one  became  suspicious  of  its  source.  Then  sev 
eral  pairs  of  eyes  simultaneously  discovered  lit 
tle  bodies  of  flame  creeping  forth  through  the 
crevices  in  a  lumber  pile  to  the  north, — hardly 
discernible  in  the  daylight  but  for  the  accom 
panying  smoke  which  formed  a  darker  back 
ground  against  which  they  stood  out.  Suddenly 
the  cry  of  "Fire!  Fire!  Fire!"  arose,  and  was 
borne  with  startling  clearness  on  the  wind.  It 
was  taken  up  and  repeated  from  mouth  to 


112  ERIC  MAROTTE 

mouth  far  to  the  south  and  east,  the  flames 
themselves  being  as  yet  invisible  from  other 
directions  on  account  of  the  intervening  lumber 
and  buildings.  Every  one  passing  within  sound 
of  the  warning  ran  towards  the  point  of  well- 
understood  danger,  and  people  at  supper  in 
their  homes  dropped  their  knives  and  forks  with 
a  clatter  and  hurried  out  in  anxiety,  bare 
headed  and  coatless. 

The  flames  crept  on,  gaining  more  rapid 
headway  from  the  strong  breeze,  which  had 
now  veered  round  and  was  blowing  out  of  the 
southwest.  Almost  before  an  alarm  could  be 
turned  in  and  long  before  a  temporary  stand 
against  them  could  be  organized  by  a  bucket 
brigade  stretching  to  the  nearest  river  bank 
and  men  running  out  private  hose  lines  from 
the  adjacent  buildings,  the  fire  was  beyond  local 
control  and  working  its  way  into  the  very  heart 
of  the  dry,  inflammable  piles  on  piles  of  dressed 
lumber.  The  whole  populace  of  the  "  Island 1? 
turned  out,  to  be  joined,  as  the  minutes  passed 
in  quick  suspense,  by  hundreds  and  thousands 
from  all  sides  across  the  river's  branches. 

The  first  engine  to  arrive  came  from  the 
east,  only  to  find  the  Division  street  bridge 
swung  open  with  a  vessel  stuck  in  the  draw, 
and  had  to  turn  about  and  run  south  to  the 
Halsted  street  bridge  across  the  east  branch, 


FOOLS  BUSH  IN  11 

thus  approaching  the  fire  by  a  circuitous  route 
consuming  over  ten  minutes  of  invaluable  time. 
It  was  closely  followed  by  a  second  steamer 
from  the  south  via  Halsted  street;  but  the  lat 
ter,  after  passing  safely  over  a  short  length  of 
plank  road  on  one  of  the  narrower  streets,  struck 
a  large  rock  in  its  unpaved  part  beyond  and 
broke  a  wheel,  causing  still  another  vexatious 
delay. 

In  the  meantime  two  more  engines  reached 
the  scene,  from  the  west;  and  another  crossed 
westwardly  by  the  North  avenue  bridge  just 
beyond  the  "Island,"  and  taking  up  their  sta 
tion  on  the  mainland,  its  crew  carried  their 
hose  across  the  river  in  a  commandeered  row- 
boat.  The  location  of  water  supply  hydrants 
was  of  no  particular  moment,  as  most  of  the 
fire-engines  were  stationed  close  enough  to 
pump  water  direct  from  the  river. 

The  fire,  by  this  time,  threatened  destruction 
of  the  entire  belt  of  lumber  yards,  and  a  4-11 
alarm  was  sent  in.  Soon  all  the  fire  apparatus 
for  miles  around  was  being  rushed  to  the  res 
cue;  and  the  clanging  of  their  gongs  and  bells, 
the  clatter  of  their  horses'  hoofs,  the  rumbling 
of  their  wheels,  the  pounding  of  the  steamers' 
pumps,  the  hissing  of  the  streams  as  they  turned 
to  steam  in  the  fiery  heat  of  the  flames,  and  the 
shouts  of  the  firemen  and  spectators ;  formed  al- 


114  ERIC  MAROTTE 

together  a  mighty  chorus  to  the  snapping  and 
crackling  and  crashing  of  the  burning  lumber 
and  the  shrieks  of  the  engines  whistling  for 
coal  and  of  the  tug-boats  struggling  to  dislodge 
vessels  from  their  burning  docks. 

The  scene  in  all  its  wild,  chaotic  fury  was 
one  never  to  be  forgotten  by  those  who  saw  it. 

The  heat  from  the  falling  piles  of  boards 
and  timbers  became  finally  so  intense  that  the 
boldest  and  most  seasoned  firemen  had  to  re 
treat  five  hundred  feet  from  the  nearest  line  of 
fire,  and  the  flames  mounted  and  shot  out  in 
mad  darts  in  every  direction  through  the  roll 
ing  smoke,  until  high  in  the  air  they  met  and 
joined  forces  in  a  roaring  volcano  of  liquid  light 
belching  forth  fiery,  flying  boards  and  splinters 
and  star-like  sparks  that,  carried  on  the  wings 
of  a  high  wind  augmented  by  the  terrific  draft 
created  by  the  conflagration  itself,  alighted 
promiscuously  on  roofs  of  houses,  decks  of  ves 
sels  and  tops  of  stored  lumber  and  freight  cars 
for  half  a  mile  around.  These  started  innumer 
able  minor  fires  which  hundreds  of  volunteers 
from  the  crowd  were  kept  busy  fighting  and 
extinguishing. 

The  sky  was  lighted  up  as  by  a  brilliant  sun 
set  and  the  intensity  of  its  combustion  gave  to 
the  central  body  of  flames  a  pulsating,  throbbing 


FOOLS  RUSH  IN  116 

glare  that  dazzled  and  pained  the  eye  like  gaz 
ing  at  the  sun  in  the  zenith. 

It  seemed  a  physical  impossibility  for  any 
inanimate  thing  to  survive  for  a  minute  in  the 
path  of  the  devastating  flames,  or  for  any  mor 
tal  being  to  brave  its  terrors  and  live;  yet  both 
these  miracles  did  come  to  pass  that  night. 

At  the  first  spreading  of  the  alarm  John  and 
his  father  were  startled  from  an  early  supper. 
Reaching  for  their  hats,  they  bade  Jemima  stay 
and  watch  the  house,  and  covered  the  two  blocks 
between  them  and  the  rapidly  igniting  mass 
in  two  minutes.  There  they  lent  their  aid  to 
the  amateur  efforts  to  stay  the  progress  of  the 
flames  until  the  arrival  of  the  fire  brigades, 
when  they  were  forced  to  become  excited  but 
helpless  spectators  like  the  rest.  Here  they 
were  joined  by  Mr.  Hummelmueller,  the  brewer, 
and  many  others  they  knew,  amongst  the  throng 
being  several  despairing  owners  of  the  doomed 
properties.  The  noise  and  clangor  were  so  great 
that  they  had  to  scream  to  make  each  other 
understand.  When  they  had  been  standing 
there  about  ten  minutes  they  were  made  aware 
of  the  presence  of  Mrs.  Hummelmueller  and 
Jemima,  who,  unable  to  resist  the  fascination 
and  grandeur  of  the  spectacle,  had  followed 
them.  After  some  expostulation  with  these  two 
at  their  exposing  themselves  so  unnecessarily, 


116  ERIC  MAROTTE 

the  whole  party  moved  back  a  space  from  the 
front  ranks  to  be  clear  of  the  crowd,  and  there 
continued  to  watch  the  fire  over  the  heads  of 
those  in  front  of  them.  While  gathered  there 
in  momentary  silence,  who  should  burst  in  upon 
them  in  a  state  of  feverish  excitement  but  Bill 
Stubbs. 

"0,  say!"  he  shouted,  "do  you  know  that 
some  of  the  firemen  think  that  they  have  several 
times  seen  a  human  figure  standing  up  on  top 
of  one  of  the  lumber  piles,  just  beyond  the 
flames  and  in  their  path  ?  They  're  afraid  some 
one  has  been  caught  in  the  fire!" 

The  faces  of  his  auditors  blanched  at  the 
news  and  an  uncontrollable  restlessness  attacked 
them. 

"But  he  could  escape  towards  the  north, 
could  he  not?"  a  listener  asked. 

"No;  the  line  of  the  fire  is  moving  in  a  semi 
circle  or  crescent,  and  if  anyone  is  really  there 
he  will  be  quickly  and  effectually  hemmed  in 
on  three  sides,"  said  Stubbs. 

"But  the  north  side  is  still  open." 

"No;  it  is  not.  Flying  sparks  have  ignited 
the  yards  a  block  ahead  of  the  main  flames,  and 
an  independent  fire  is  already  raging  there,  cut 
ting  off  all  hope  of  his  retreat  in  that  direction. " 

"Well,  I  hope  the  firemen  were  mistaken," 
put  in  Mr.  Hummelmueller.  "By  the  way,  Will, 


FOOLS  BUSH  IN  117 

how  do  you  happen  to  be  here  at  this  hour,  so 
far  from  your  home?" 

"Why,  I  came  over  to  see  Gretchen;  didn't 
you  know  of  it?" 

' '  I  did  not — but  where  is  Gretchen  now  ? ' ' 

"Isn't  she  here?  I  thought  I  should  find  her 
with  you — she  must  have  got  back  by  this 
time." 

"Back  from  where?" 

"Oh,  I  forgot  you  didn't  know.  You  see,  a 
lot  of  us  were  playing  among  the  lumber  piles, 
and  when  we  smelt  smoke  we  all  ran." 

"Which  way  did  Gretchen  go?"  her  mother 
interrupted  in  alarm. 

"I  don't  really  know;  in  our  hurry  we  all 
got  separated,  but  I  guess  she  is  somewhere 
around,"  vouchsafed  the  boy. 

Mrs.  Hummelmueller  was  just  starting  for 
home,  to  assure  herself  of  her  daughter's  safe 
return  there,  when  a  fire-marshal  came  up  to 
them  hurriedly.  Calling  aside  Mr.  Hummel 
mueller,  whom  he  knew  personally,  he  said 
earnestly: 

"Mr.  Hummelmueller,  I  want  you  to  take 
coolly  what  I'm  going  to  tell  you,  as  there  may 
be  nothing  in  it  for  you  to  worry  about  more 
than  others,  but  there  is  certainly  some  one 
caught  in  this  hellish  trap,  and  it  is  a  woma/n. 
I  have  sent  three  different  firemen  up  to  the 


118  ERIC  MAROTTE 

roofs  of  buildings  overlooking  the  flames,  and 
they  all  report  the  same  thing. " 

"Gott  im  Himmel!  aber  dieses  ist  furchter- 
lich! — Who  can  it  be?"  cried  the  German,  re 
lapsing  in  his  horror  into  his  native  tongue. 

"Have  you  seen  your  daughter  within  the 
last  half  hour,  sir!" 

"No;  but  you  surely  can't  suspect  that  the 
woman  your  men  saw  is  she?"  faltered  the 
father. 

"I  hope  not;  yet  one  of  my  men  who  lives 
on  the  *  Island'  and  knows  her  street  dress, 
was  struck  by  its  similarity  to  that  worn  by  this 
woman  penned  up  in  the  fire." 

"Anyhow,  whoever  she  may  be,"  he  added, 
"I'm  going  to  ask  for  volunteers  to  try  and  beat 
a  way  through  to  her,  and  I  wish  you  would  try 
to  locate  your  daughter  at  once  and  report  the 
result  to  me  within  the  next  ten  minutes. ' ' 

"I  will  have  my  preparations  for  attempt 
ing  the  rescue  of  this  poor  woman  all  made  by 
that  time,"  concluded  the  marshal. 

Just  then  John,  who  had  climbed  a  conveni 
ent  tree,  tumbled  to  the  ground  in  his  haste  to 
get  down  and  came  rushing  towards  the  others, 
crying: 

"Gretchen's  in  the  fire!  Oh!  Gretchen's  in 
the  fire!  Quick!  quick!  I  saw  her  just  now!  I 
saw  her  on  top  of  a  high  pile  of  boards,  try- 


FOOLS  RUSH  IN  119 

ing  to  attract  attention  by  waving  her  red  sash 
over  her  head!  Oh!  what  shall  we  do!  come  on! 
Come  on!  I'm  going  after  her  right  now!" 

The  people  began  to  crowd  around  him  in 
dumbfounded  consternation,  doubting  their  own 
senses.  Mrs.  Hummelmueller  fell  on  her  knees, 
rocking  from  side  to  side  and  moaning: 

"Ach!  mein  Kind — Mein  kleines  Kind;  es 
ist  verloren!"  Her  husband  was  stricken  dumb 
with  anguish  and  gazed  vacantly  about  him. 
The  shock  was  almost  too  sudden  for  realiza 
tion,  and  he  seemed  not  to  comprehend  what 
others  were  saying. 

Many  around  him  at  once  volunteered  their 
services  for  the  rescue.  They  moved  wildly 
and  aimlessly  here  and  there,  trying  to  devise 
or  suggest  means  of  approaching  the  fiery  prison 
of  the  doomed  girl;  but  the  more  experienced 
marshal  held  them  all  back  and,  calling  some  of 
his  own  men,  collected  together  several  lines  of 
hose  from  the  nearest  engines,  and  set  about  sta 
tioning  their  pipemen  so  their  streams  would 
all  fall  as  closely  as  possible  on  the  spot  where 
the  girl  was  last  seen.  With  another  group  of 
firemen  he  sought  out  the  shortest  available 
path  to  the  point  of  the  victim's  immolation, 
and  directed  all  the  other  streams  he  could 
muster  so  they  would  "play"  along  the  path, 
one  beyond  the  other.  So  that  there  was,  as 


120  ERIC  MAROTTE 

nearly  as  possible,  a  continuous,  overlapping 
fall  of  water  upon  it.  Then  he  started  the  hook- 
and-ladder  men  to  hacking  right  and  left  of 
the  path  and  to  pulling  down  the  burning  boards 
ahead  of  them  as  they  advanced.  The  pipemen 
played  their  streams  upon  these  as  fast  as  they 
were  dislodged. 

The  police  kept  in  check  the  excited  crowds 
at  the  police  fire-line,  well  behind  the  fire  fight 
ers  themselves,  but  half  a  dozen  men  whom  the 
marshal  had  picked  out  from  those  volunteer 
ing,  followed  close  behind  the  little  band  of 
chosen  department  men,  and  with  these  were 
Mr.  Hummelmueller,  John  and  Jim  Manning 
and  Bill  Stubbs.  Just  before  the  start  was  made 
Mr.  Hummelmueller  had  shouted  out  that  he 
would  give  ten  thousand  dollars  to  any  man 
who  would  save  his  daughter,  and  spurred  to 
activity  by  this  tremendous  reward,  several  un 
thinking  individuals  had  broken  through  the 
lines  and  pressed  too  closely  upon  the  flames, 
only  to  be  forced  back  with  singed  hair  and 
scorched  faces.  The  police  cordon  forcibly  pre 
vented  any  more  such  attempts,  and  none  but 
those  designated  by  the  marshal  himself  were 
again  permitted  to  place  themselves  in  useless 
danger.  The  heroic  band  fought  stubbornly  on 
along  the  path  outlined  for  them  by  the  ax- 
men  and  the  pipemen 's  streams,  but  their  prog- 


FOOLS  RUSH  IN  121 

ress  seemed  a  snail's  pace  to  the  impatient  and 
horrified  watchers. 

The  girl  was  not  again  seen,  but  John,  in 
the  purely  animal  sagacity  of  his  agony,  seemed 
to  feel  instinctively  where  she  must  be,  and  he 
urged  the  men  on  repeatedly  towards  their  goal. 
The  heat  around  them  was  now  terrific,  the 
smoke  rolled  over  them;  and  every  few  minutes 
some  fireman  would  fall  back  gasping  for  air, 
only  to  return  to  the  fight  when  he  had  caught 
his  breath  again. 

Noticing  that  Stubbs  kept  well  to  the  rear 
and  did  more  talking  than  work,  John  became 
enraged  and  asked  him,  "why,  in  God's  name, 
he  had  been  so  cowardly  and  ungallant  as  not 
to  have  stayed  beside  Gretchen  in  the  first  place 
and  so  made  sure  of  her  safety  ?" 

Stubbs  hotly  retorted  that,  1 1  talk  was  cheap, 
and  if  he,  John,  was  so  d — d  brave,  he  had  bet 
ter,  prove  it  now,  especially  since  he  was  so 
' stuck  on'  Gretchen." 

Wheeling  on  him,  John  dealt  him  a  blow  on 
the  neck,  and  screaming  above  the  roar  of 
the  conflagration,  "You  contemptible  cur!  I 
will!"  he  darted  across  the  open  space  behind 
them  and  along  into  the  crowd.  He  ran  to  the 
nearest  house  and  stripped  a  blanket  from  the 
first  bed  he  saw.  This  he  saturated  all  through 
and  thoroughly  in  the  water  from  a  leak  in  one 


122  ERIC  MAROTTE 

of  the  hose-lines,  and  flew  back  with  it  across 
the  fire-line  again  to  where  he  had  left  the 
handful  of  dauntless  rescuers  and  pushed  on 
with  them.  They  had  fought  their  arduous  way 
to  within  a  few  rods  of  the  girl's  fearful  van 
tage  point,  which  had  now  caught  fire  in  spite 
of  all  the  efforts  of  the  pipemen  and  was  com 
mencing  to  smoulder  and  blaze  like  a  funeral 
pyre,  when  John,  who  was  in  the  lead,  mysteri 
ously  disappeared.  He  had  jumped  across  and 
over  the  flaming  debris  directly  in  front  of  the 
firemen  and  turned  so  quickly  to  the  right  be 
tween  two  huge  burning  piles  that  the  eyes  of 
the  rest  could  scarcely  follow  the  rapidity  of 
his  movements. 

His  foster-father  sallied  after  him,  but  the 
others  seized  him  and  restrained  him  from  his 
folly  by  main  force,  while  they  worked  forward 
with  the  increasing  fury  of  derangement,  fight 
ing  their  own  exhaustion  as  well  as  the  blaze 
confronting  them. 

i  i  My  God !  he  is  a  dead  man ! ' '  shrieked  Mr. 
Hummelmueller;  and  Jim  struggled  with  his 
comrades,  who  fought  to  check  his  mad  impulse 
to  rush  into  the  very  heart  of  the  soulless,  de 
stroying  element. 

The  coveted  goal  towards  which  all  their 
eyes  fearfully  turned,  burned  faster  and  faster, 
but  the  little  company  of  daring  heroes  became 


FOOLS  RUSH  IN  123 

so  exhausted  and  were  so  overcome  by  the  tor 
rid  temperature  and  belching  smoke,  that  it  was 
effectively  stopped  and  driven  back  inch  by 
inch.  A  loud  groan  went  up  from  the  distant 
crowds  as  the  particular  lumber  pile  on  which 
their  hopes  and  fears  were  set  burst  into  one 
solid  sheet  of  bright-red  flames. 

The  fire-marshal  ordered  his  men  forward 
with  oaths,  but  they  had  reached  the  limit  of 
human  endurance,  and  though  they  responded 
desperately,  they  could  advance  no  further. 

So,  while  the  streams  of  water  were  still  kept 
spurting  upon  the  point  they  had  tried  so 
vainly,  though  heroically,  to  make,  the  drenched 
and  scarred  would-be  deliverers  dragged  each 
other  reluctantly  backward  to  the  police-lines. 
There  they  stood  or  sat,  overwhelmed  in  body 
and  spirit,  watching  in  helplessness  the  de 
struction  and  human  catastrophe  they  were 
powerless  to  avert. 

When  John  leaped  forward  and  away  from 
the  other  men  he  had  no  plan  but  the  fixed  idea 
and  determination  of  reaching  Gretchen  some 
how  and  in  any  way,  and  either  rescuing  her 
or  dying  with  her. 

Finding  a  narrow,  open  space  to  the  right 
and  just  beyond,  he  had  plunged  blindly  into 
it,  and,  dodging  in  and  out  between  the  con 
suming  squares  of  timber,  he  had  succeeded  in 


124  ERIC  MAROTTE 

covering  nearly  half  the  distance  to  Gretchen 
when  a  furious  rain  of  fire  drove  him  to  the 
ground. 

As  he  went  down,  blinded  and  smothered  by 
the  smoke,  his  head  struck  a  raised  mound  of 
earth.  Extending  one  hand  to  reconnoitre  his 
position,  he  found  nothing  but  vacancy  where 
the  ground  should  have  been  and  his  arm  de 
scended  to  the  elbow  in  an  open  hole.  Con 
fused  and  half  delirious  as  he  was,  he  intuitively 
felt  lower  for  its  bottom,  and  then  it  suddenly 
flashed  upon  his  waning  senses  that  he  knew 
just  where  he  was.  He  remembered  that  the 
children  of  his  neighborhood  had,  some  months 
ago,  dug  a  miniature,  cave-like  tunnel  at  least 
a  hundred  feet  in  length  under  the  lumber  piles, 
using  stray  boards  and  scantling  they  found  in 
the  yards  to  line  it  and  support  its  roof. 

Hope  sprung  up  anew  within  him,  and  he 
formed  the  daring  resolution  of  creeping 
through  the  mimic  subterranean  passage,  once 
so  thoughtlessly  wrought  and  now  so  tragically 
useful,  and  trying  to  get  to  his  imperiled  school 
mate  from  its  other  end.  The  air  was  cooler 
and  less  filled  with  smoke  in  the  bore ;  and,  has 
tily  summoning  all  his  strength  and  courage, 
he  began  to  crawl  forward  underneath  the 
heated  earth.  The  illumination  of  the  surround 
ing  blaze  shining  in  at  the  further  extremity 


FOOLS  BUSH  IN  125 

guided  Mm  like  a  beacon.  He  could  hear  the 
roaring  detonations  of  the  flames  and  feel  the 
vibration  of  the  falling,  crashing  lumber  above 
him,  but,  mindful  of  nought  but  his  one  great 
purpose,  he  pushed  on  through.  Looking  out 
cautiously  upon  his  arrival  at  the  opposite  open 
ing,  his  heart  beat  tumultously;  for  he  recog 
nized  the  place  of  Gretchen's  awful  incarcera 
tion  only  a  few  feet  away  and  with  one  entire 
side  and  part  of  another  side  ablaze.  He 
emerged  from  the  " burrow"  on  his  hands  and 
knees  to  keep  his  face  in  the  clearer  air  near  the 
ground.  Wrapping  the  now  smoking  blanket 
over  his  head  and  all  about  him,  he  drew  a  long, 
deep  breath  of  air,  started  to  his  feet,  and  made 
a  last,  mad  rush  for  the  burning  square  ahead. 

In  those  days  of  less  valuable  land  and  more 
available  space,  lumber  was  not  always  piled, 
as  it  is  today,  in  solid  blocks,  but  was  frequently 
built  up  into  hollow  squares,  the  boards  over 
lapping  each  other  at  the  four  corners,  so  that 
there  was  room  on  all  sides  to  catch  the  hands 
and  toes  between  the  boards  and  thus  climb  to 
the  top,  which  was  generally  about  ten  feet  from 
terra  firma.  The  children  used  to  make-believe 
in  their  play  that  these  hollow  squares,  afford 
ing  partial  privacy,  were  "  houses "  and  that 
their  sides  were  lattices.  This  one  in  which 
Gretchen  had  taken  refuge  was  such  a  hollow 


126  ERIC  MAROTTE 

square  and  a  proportionally  safer  retreat  than 
the  solid  blocks. 

Looking  between  the  lower  boards,  John 
could  now  see  the  object  of  his  search,  lying  ap 
parently  unconscious  but  unburnt  upon  the 
ground  in  its  centre.  Unappalled  by  his  terrible 
surroundings  and  over-joyed  at  his  unhoped  for 
luck,  he  immediately  scaled  the  one  side  of  the 
pile  as  yet  unignited  and  jumped  down  inside. 
Shedding  the  blanket  in  one  shake  of  his  body, 
he  threw  it  over  Gretchen  and  grasped  her 
shoulders,  raising  her  into  a  sitting  posture. 
Kneeling  down,  he  placed  his  own  shoulders  un 
der  her  breast,  so  that  her  head  and  arms 
drooped  down  over  his  back.  Then,  with  a 
mighty  strain,  he  rose  from  his  knees  and  stag 
gered  with  his  human  burden  to  the  single  cor 
ner  not  on  fire.  Using  both  hands  and  feet  to 
climb  with  and  trusting  in  the  pressure  of  her 
body  against  the  lumber  triangle  in  front  of 
him  to  hold  her  on  his  shoulders  and  prevent  her 
slipping  off,  he  began  the  perilous,  slow  ascent. 

Twice  he  wavered  and  nearly  lost  his  hold, 
and  at  any  other  point  but  the  corner,  where 
there  was  sufficient  room  for  her  body  between 
him  and  the  seething  boards  and  where  he  could 
get  a  firmer  foothold  from  being  able  to  step 
now  on  one  side  of  the  square  and  now  on  the 


FOOLS  RUSH  IN  127 

adjacent  side,  he  must  have  fallen  and  both 
have  been  lost. 

The  top  boards  were  hot  to  his  touch  and 
pained  his  hands;  he  was  forced  to  hold  his 
breath  to  avoid  inhaling  the  heat  waves'  poi 
son;  but  at  last,  with  a  despairing  wrench  and 
groan  he  got  one  leg  over  that  final  obstacle 
that  barred  their  egress. 

He  stood  erect  for  a  single  dramatic  second ; 
then,  half  jumping,  half  falling,  with  both  arms 
about  the  girl,  he  struck  the  ground  with  a 
heavy  thud  just  as  the  wall  they  had  quitted 
burst  into  a  glorious  fountain  of  golden  flames. 
Without  the  strength  or  will-power  to  carry  her 
weight  any  further,  he  dragged  her  after  him 
with  tortured  muscles,  and  with  a  quick,  jerk 
ing  movement  backed  himself  into  the  mouth 
of  the  tunnel  and  pulled  her  in  head-first  be 
hind  him.  The  solid  square  of  lumber  directly 
in  front  of  the  tunnel 's  opening  fell  with  a 
thunderous  crash  a  second  after  they  had  en 
tered  it,  completely  blocking  it  up  with  a  solid 
mass  of  living  fire.  Easing  the  form  of  the  still 
unseeing  and  unhearing  girl  along  to  the  centre 
of  their  narrow  haven,  John  dropped  limp  be 
side  her,  utterly  unable  to  stir  hand  or  foot 
after  the  horrible  ordeal,  the  physical  and  nerv 
ous  strain,  he  had  undergone.  For  fully  ten 
minutes  he  lay  thus  in  the  inertia  of  reaction. 


128  ERIC  MAROTTE 

Breathing  was  difficult,  but  still  possible  in  their 
peculiar  position  of  fresh  imprisonment,  and  his 
first  thought  on  recovering  a  measure  of  equa 
nimity  and  vigor  was  of  the  necessity  of  look 
ing  into  his  companion's  condition.  He  pro 
ceeded  to  examine  her  carefully.  Her  face  and 
hands  appeared  to  be  slightly  blistered  and  her 
dress  was  singed  in  spots;  her  eye-brows  were 
gone,  and  her  hair  burnt  off  on  the  end  where 
it  had  hung  loose;  but  he  could  discover  no 
other  or  more  serious  hurts  about  her.  The 
only  doubt  that  remained  was  as  to  whether  she 
had  inhaled  the  flames  at  all,  the  most  danger 
ous  possibility  and  the  hardest  to  decide  about 
from  mere  appearances. 

Taking  courage  then,  he  put  his  lips  to  hers, 
which  were  open,  and  sucked  the  breath  from 
her  lungs  intermittently,  in  an  effort  to  force 
an  artificial  respiration,  and  tried  to  wring  out 
any  water  there  might  still  be  in  the  blanket 
across  her  face.  But  she  seemed  to  be  in  a 
stupor,  almost  a  comatose  state,  and  gave  no 
signs  of  life  except  a  light,  slow  heart-beat, 
which  he  could  faintly  detect.  Knowing  that 
it  might  be  hours  before  they  were  found 
or  could  leave  their  temporary  shelter,  he 
racked  his  wits  for  some  practical  means  of 
reviving  her. 

He  began  himself  to  suffer  from  thirst  and 


"FOR    A    SINGLE     DRAMATIC    SECOND    HE    STOOD    ERECT" 


FOOLS  RUSH  IN  129 

the  girl's  lips  were  scorched  and  parched,  and 
he  realized  that  what  they  both  needed  impera 
tively  was  water.  But  where  was  he  to  find  it 
in  this  dry  hole? 

There  seemed  to  be  absolutely  nothing  more 
he  could  do  for  her;  but  in  moving  backward 
and  forward  in  nervous  vacillation,  his  foot 
came  in  contact  with  a  slight  projection  above 
the  earth  floor,  or  bed,  of  the  tunnel,  and  on 
investigation  he  saw  that  he  had  uncovered  the 
top  of  one  of  those  old  wooden,  street  water- 
pipes  first  laid  in  Chicago — long  before  iron 
ones  were  thought  of.  This  one  was  evidently 
part  of  a  private  water  system  belonging  to  the 
lumber  yard  itself,  which  once  got  its  water 
direct  from  the  river,  using  its  own  water- 
pumps.  (Curious  specimens  of  these  interesting 
relics  can  now  be  seen  in  the  historical  collec 
tion  at  the  Chicago  City  Hall.)  He  tapped  on 
it  gently  and  then  listened  with  his  ear  held 
against  it.  He  fairly  cried  out  with  delight 
when  he  distinguished  the  unmistakable  sound 
of  moving  water.  These  wooden  pipes  had  been 
discarded  by  the  city  itself  years  ago,  but  by 
some  fortunate  oversight  or  through  some  clan 
destine  intent  to  escape  paying  city-water  bills 
by  continuing  to  use  river  water  gratis,  this 
one,  which  he  had  expected  to  find  empty  and 


130  ERIC  MAROTTE 

dry,  had  been  allowed  to  remain  a  "live"  pipe, 
and  they  were  saved. 

Taking  out  his  big,  boy's  jack-knife,  he  cut 
a  splinter  from  one  of  the  overhead  boards  and 
whittled  it  into  a  round  plug.  Then  patiently 
turning  his  knife  round  and  round,  like  a  gim 
let,  with  its  point  inserted  in  the  treacherous 
surface  of  the  old,  rotten  wood  pipe,  he  care 
fully  bored  through  it  till  a  tiny  stream  of  luke 
warm  water  spurted  out  and  up.  He  waited 
until  a  small  pool  had  formed  around  the  open 
ing  in  the  pipe  and  then  plugged  it  up.  He  laid 
Gretchen's  head  tenderly  on  his  lap  and  wet  it 
profusely  with  the  water  he  scooped  up  in  his 
cupped  hands.  He  forced  a  little  water  down 
her  throat.  While  waiting  for  her  to  revive  he 
relieved  his  own  burning  thirst  with  copious 
draughts. 

In  a  short  time  her  eyelids  commenced  to 
flutter  and  her  lips  to  move,  and  at  last,  with  a 
choking  gasp,  she  stirred;  her  eyes  tremblingly 
opened,  and  she  looked  up  in  a  dazed  way  into 
John's  anxiously  smiling  face,  while  he  bent 
lovingly  over  her  and  softly  kissed  her  poor 
scorched  brow. 

The  human-worm-hole  which  they  had  appro 
priated  for  their  underground  refuge  was  just 
of  sufficient  height  to  admit  of  their  sitting  up 
right  without  striking  its  roof  with  their  heads. 


FOOLS  RUSH  IN  131 

and  John  gently  placed  her  in  an  easy  position 
with  her  back  against  the  tunnel  wall  and  her 
limbs  crossed  under  her.   Eemoving  the  splinter 
plug  from  the  hole  in  the  pipe  again,  he  joined 
his  palms  and  fingers  together,  forming  a  very 
fair  drinking  cup,  though  of  doubtful  cleanness. 
He  let  the  water  which  fountained  from  the 
aperture  fall  into  this,  and  lifting  his  hands 
to  her  lips,  begged  her  to  drink.    This  simple 
manoeuvre  he  repeated  several  times.    When 
she  could  drink  no  more  and  he  had  reslaked 
his  own  thirst,  he  replaced  the  plug,  taking  off 
one  of  his  shoes  and  hammering  it  in  tightly 
with  light  blows  of  the  shoe-heel,  and  then  sat 
down  himself  close  alongside  of  her.    He  had 
expected  her  upon  regaining  consciousness  to 
cry  out  and  become  hysterical,  but  she  made  no 
sound  and  asked  no  questions.    She  simply  sat 
quiet,    contemplating    him    with    meaningless 
glances    and   uncomprehending   brain.      Then, 
without  warning,  as  John  watched  her  in  re 
newed  alarm   (this  time  for  her  reason)   she 
raised  one  hand  slowly  to  her  hair  and,  letting 
it  fall  again  half  way,  drew  her  arm  softly  and 
unconsciously  about  his  neck,  like  a  weary  child, 
and  laid  her  head  upon  his  shoulder  with  her 
face  upturned  to  his.    For  a  moment  her  eyes 
gazed  inquiringly  into  his,  then  the  tired  lashes 
drooped,  her  breath  came  sighingly  and  evenly, 


132  ERIC  MAROTTE 

and  she  fell  gradually  into  that  dreamless  slum 
ber  which  kindly  Nature  lends  to  extreme  men 
tal  and  physical  fatigue. 

John  had  loosened  wide  her  dress  at  the 
throat  in  his  first,  frantic  efforts  to  revive  her, 
and  as  he  presently  passed  his  arm  around  her 
waist  to  hold  her  safe  and  comfortable,  he  saw 
now  and  again,  through  the  disarrangement  of 
her  corsage  and  its  underlying  linens,  her 
rounded,  virginal  bosoms'  rhythmic  rise  and 
fall.  Both  fascinated  and  ashamed,  he  averted 
his  gaze.  His  young  blood  leaped  to  his  neck, 
and  flooded  his  cheeks  and  brow ;  and,  too  mod 
est  to  attempt  to  rearrange  her  disordered  gar 
ments,  he  drew  the  blanket,  now  dry,  caressingly 
over  her,  and  with  contending  thoughts  and  emo 
tions,  awaited  the  hour  of  their  release.  He  lost 
all  record  of  time  and  must  have  fallen  asleep ; 
for  he  remembered  nothing  more  until  he  sud 
denly  perceived  the  light  of  day  streaming  in 
at  the  unblocked,  eastern  mouth  of  the  bore, 
and  found  himself  lying  with  his  own  head  on 
Gretchen's  knees,  his  face  pressed  between  her 
two  soft  hands  and  her  lips  on  his. 

She  started  wild-eyed  like  a  frightened  doe, 
and  he  felt  the  salty,  tickling  moisture  on  his 
cheeks  of  tears  not  shed  by  him,  and  wondered 
at  them.  She  had  not  refastened  her  dress,  and 
in  the  quick  surprise  of  his  awakening,  the  agi- 


FOOLS  BUSH  IN  133 

tation  of  her  heart  showed  plainly  in  the  rapid 
flushing  of  her  full,  ivory-smooth  throat  and  in 
the  tumultuous  swelling  and  reswelling  of  her 
breasts,  now  clearly  disclosed  as  she  bent  over 
him  in  the  dawning  light.  She  looked  away 
guiltily  and  seemed  confused,  and  he  sat  up 
quickly  and  defensively,  mortified  at  his  unin 
tentional  neglect  of  her. 

"I'm  afraid  I  make  a  poor  watch-dog, "  said 
he  apologetically. 

She  turned  her  face  toward  him  again. 

i '  Were  you  watching,  John?  Where  are  we, 
and  how  did  we  get  here?  I  have  no  recollec 
tion  of  coming  here — all  I  remember  is  falling 
between  those  awful  burning  rows  of  lumber 
walls;  then  all  was  black  to  me  until  I  opened 
my  eyes  again  in  full  realization  that  I  was  still 
alive,  but  in  some  mysterious  place.  Did  you 
save  me?  How!  Tell  me  about  it." 

As  unassumingly  as  he  could,  John  related 
to  her  the  whole  story  of  her  miraculous  rescue 
and  escape,  from  the  time  he  first  recognized 
her  on  the  lumber-pile  down  to  the  present  mo 
ment.  She  did  not  interrupt  him,  but  listened 
to  the  improbable  tale  with  wide-distended  eyes 
and  indrawn  breath. 

When  he  ceased  she  sat  speechless  and  ab 
sorbed  in  thought  for  a  few  seconds,  as  though 
to  take  in  the  full  measure  of  his  heroism  and 


134  ERIC  MAROTTE 

its  reasons.  Then  with  a  steady  yet  timid  gaze, 
she  seemed  to  draw  him  to  her  by  her  eyes  alone. 
She  slowly  extended  her  arms  to  him,  and  the 
words  came: 

"And  did  you  love  me  so?  Dear  John,  will 
you  kiss  me?"  she  softly  faltered. 

A  sweet  shock  of  indescribable  desire  passed 
through  him  and  engulfed  his  innocence  as  he 
yielded  passionately  to  her  embraces,  and  he 
gave  her  the  first  love-kiss  he  had  ever  pressed 
upon  the  lips  of  any  living  woman.  She  clung 
to  him  and  laid  her  burning  face  against  his; 
then  let  him  go.  After  a  little  she  laughed: 

"I  must  be  a  sight,  John! — what  do  I  look 
like?" 

"Like  an  angel,  to  me,"  he  replied,  unhesi 
tatingly. 

"Then  let  us  fly  this  unheavenly  place,"  said 
Gretchen;  and,  without  any  prudish  turning  of 
her  back  upon  him,  she  began  to  readjust  and 
smooth  out  her  clothing  as  well  as  the  cramped 
space  permitted. 

"Now,  lead  me  on,  my  Sir  Galahad,"  she 
mockingly  commanded. 

John  crawled  out  first  and  drew  her  up  from 
the  opening;  and  there  they  stood,  all  alone,  in 
the  blinding  glare  of  the  sudden  sunlight,  with 
naught  for  blocks  around  them  but  the  low- 
burning,  smouldering  and  charred  remnants  of 


FOOLS  BUSH  IN  135 

the  once  imposing  millions  of  feet  of  lumber,  as 
though  arisen,  like  Lazarus,  from  the  dead.  And 
the  simile  is  not  unhopefully  offered  here;  for 
their  hearts,  at  least,  were  born  anew. 

It  is  not  given  to  many,  even  in  this  late  day 
of  scientific  and  financial  prodigies,  to  say,  with 
Byron:  "I  awoke  one  morning  to  find  myself 
famous, ' '  yet,  in  a  local  way,  that  is  what  now 
happened  to  John. 

Picking  their  tortuous  path  as  best  they  could 
over  and  around  the  blackened  but  still  danger 
ous  debris,  they  haltingly  wound  their  way  with 
stiffened  limbs  towards  the  part  of  the  "  Island  " 
where  they  lived.  Soon  they  came  upon  the 
usual  crowd  of  sight-seers,  who  hailed  them  with 
shouts,  and  as  they  approached  closer  they  were 
greeted  with  a  roar  of  surprise  and  incredulous, 
wondering  congratulations  and  a  rush  of  eager 
hands  and  faces,  that  threatened  to  drown  them 
both  in  a  friendly  human  maelstrom.  The  search 
for  their  bodies  had  been  abandoned  a  little 
while  before ;  only  a  few  firemen  were  left  there 
to  watch  for  the  final  extinguishment  of  the 
last  tiny  spark;  and  their  parents  had  been  con 
ducted  to  their  respective  homes  broken-hearted, 
dry-eyed  and  completely  unmanned  and  subju 
gated  by  the  immensity  of  the  calamity  that 
left  both  homes  entirely  childless  at  once. 

Borne  on  by  the  ever-augmenting  multitude. 


136  ERIC  MAEOTTE 

John  and  Gretchen  pushed  their  way  through 
still  other  crowds  to  the  little  brick  cottage. 

Jim  and  Jemima,  startled  from  their  break 
fast  by  the  approaching  din,  ran  to  the  door, 
filled  with  nameless,  dreadful  surmisings.  With 
agonized  hearts  they  waited,  crouched  as  for  an 
expected  mental  blow;  until  the  clamorous  con 
course,  parting  reluctantly  in  the  centre,  al 
lowed  the  two  survivors  to  come  forth  into  view. 

When  John's  parents  saw  them  they  could 
not  believe  the  evidence  of  their  own  eyes.  At 
best,  they  had  hoped  for  nothing  more  than  the 
recovery  of  the  gruesome,  disfigured  bodies  of 
the  two  lost  children ;  yet  here  they  came,  alive 
and  walking,  like  a  miracle  wrought  of  Christ ! 
For  an  instant  the  entire  assemblage  stood  mute 
and  palpitating,  their  eyes  turned  on  Jim  and 
Jemima  and  awaiting  the  crisis  of  the  final  act. 
Then  the  four  principals  in  the  little  drama 
rushed  into  each  others*  arms,  and  the  crowd 
burst  into  cheers  dissolved  in  tears. 

There  are  human  experiences  that  can  never 
be  justly  delineated  and  sudden  emotions  of  the 
heart  too  deep  to  gauge  with  ever  so  subtle  a 
pen,  and  the  meeting  between  these  four  fate- 
favored  beings  has  no  competent  recorder  this 
side  the  Recording  Angel. 

A  discreet,  tactful  messenger  was  at  once 
sent  off  to  bring  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hummelmueller 


FOOLS  BUSH  IN  137 

to  the  cottage.  When  the  latter,  half  an  hour 
later,  were  brought  there  in  a  carriage  (too  weak 
from  grief  to  walk  even  that  short  distance)  Jim 
had  to  stop  them  at  his  door  and  there  break 
by  degrees  to  them  the  good  news  that  the 
children  of  both  families  were  still  living,  just 
as  though  he  were  preparing  them  for  the  shock 
of  tidings  of  death.  For  unexpected  joy  can 
kill  as  surely  as  unexpected  sorrow. 

"  Friend  Hummelmueller, ' '  he  said,  very  qui 
etly,  "  before  you  enter  this  house  I  want  you 
and  your  dear  wife  to  muster  all  your  strength 
and  fortitude;  for  you  will  need  them  now  as 
you  have  never  needed  them  until  this  hour." 

Gretchen's  father  laid  his  hand  on  Jim's 
shoulder  to  sustain  his  own  poignant  misery. 

The  bitter,  humble  appeal  of  a  crushed  and 
blighted  spirit  was  in  his  eyes  as  he  searched 
those  of  this  neighbor  who  had  suffered  with 
themselves. 

' 'Tell  us  the  worst,  friend — we  can  imagine 
no  heavier  burden  than  that  we  already  bear. 
What  is  it  you  are  afraid  to  tell  us?  Have  the 
bodies  of  our  children  been  found?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Jim,  "and  there  is  something 
more  to  tell." 

Gretchen's  mother  began  to  shiver  and  choke 
and  she  feared  to  look  at  him;  but  something 
in  the  expression  of  his  face  awoke  her  mother's 


138  ERIC  MAROTTB 

intuition,  and  the  terrible,  excruciating  longing 
of  her  mother's  heart  spoke.  In  a  scarcely  au 
dible  whisper,  hesitating  at  every  word  as  if 
to  delay  the  dreadful  answer  it  must  bring,  her 
lips,  rather  than  her  voice,  began: 

"They  cannot  be  alive?"  There  was  no  hope 
in  the  spoken  question — only  agony  and  love 
and  suspense. 

Taking  a  hand  of  each  in  his  to  uphold  them, 
Jim,  who  could  not  as  yet  trust  himself  to  speak, 
simply  nodded  his  head  gravely  and  affirma 
tively,  and  then  drew  them  into  the  parlor  to 
seat  them  and  give  them  time  to  recover  from 
this  rekindling  of  the  ashes  of  their  hopes.  He 
must  still  further  prepare  them  for  what  was 
still  to  come.  The  couple  quickly  subsided  into 
a  stunned,  expectant  stillness,  and  waited  there 
like  two  helpless  children. 

The  blinds  had  been  purposely  closed  to 
gether,  with  only  a  row  or  two  of  their  shutters 
open,  and  the  light  in  the  house  was  dim. 
Gretchen  had  previously  been  put  to  bed  in  an 
adjoining  room  and  her  slight  burns  and  abra 
sions  dressed  and  bandaged;  and  John  sat  there 
beside  her.  Out  in  the  parlor  Mrs.  Hummel- 
mueller,  unable  to  stand  the  uncertainty  any 
longer,  begged  piteously  through  her  streaming 
tears  that  "they  might  be  allowed  to  see  their 
daughter  at  once,  no  matter  how  terribly  she 


FOOLS  BUSH  IN  139 

was  burnt  and  injured,  or  however  horribly  her 
pretty  face  was  marred. ' ' 

So  Jim,  putting  his  finger  to  his  lips  to  ad 
jure  absolute  silence  upon  them,  bowed  solemnly 
and  lead  them  slowly  into  the  fateful  bedroom. 

John  and  Gretchen  had  been  warned  to  make 
no  demonstrations,  and  when  the  three  adults 
entered,  Gretchen  lay  impassive  with  closed 
eyes,  her  forehead  wrapped  in  a  large  linen 
handkerchief,  one  bandaged  hand  and  arm 
stretched  out  before  her  on  the  coverlet  and  the 
other  drawn  across  her  face,  half  hiding  it. 
John  had  gently  slipped  from  the  room  upon 
the  entrance  of  the  others,  and  now  remained 
looking  on  unseen  in  another  darkened  door 
way.  Jim  stepped  aside,  and  going  to  the  one 
window  of  the  little  bedroom,  drew  a  row  of  its 
shutters  into  an  oblique  position,  admitting 
slightly  more  light  from  outside.  Then,  moving 
into  the  farthest  corner,  he  watched  in  reverent 
silence  this  tremendous  reunion  of  hearts. 

With  heavy,  wavering  feet  and  supported  by 
her  husband,  whose  tears  now  coursed  unheeded 
down  his  face,  the  mother  slowly  tottered  to 
the  bed  and  sank  upon  her  trembling  knees  be 
side  it — too  terror-stricken  to  utter  a  sound. 
Blinded  by  tears,  she  could  not  look  for  the 
dreaded  injuries;  but  feeling  an  arm  steal 
around  her  neck  as  she  crouched  there,  she 


140  ERIC  MAROTTE 

quickly  raised  her  eyes  and  looked — to  find  no 
scars  at  all,  but  in  their  stead  a  happy,  dreamy 
smile  bent  on  her.  Mere  words  cannot  depict 
the  scene  that  followed.  Only  those  who  have 
once  felt  the  light  of  their  lives  forever  quenched 
in  deadly  darkness  and  every  hope  and  faith 
crushed  out,  and  have  then  been  suddenly  awak 
ened  from  their  unutterable  despair  to  find  their 
unbearable  grief  and  agony  and  their  haunting 
sorrow  all  passing  away  like  a  dream — can  even 
hope  to  understand  it. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

"LOVE'S  YOUNG  DREAM" 


H!  the  days  are  gone,  when  Beauty  bright 
My  heart's  chain  wove; 
When  my  dream  of  life  from  morn  to 

night 

Was  love,  still  love. 
New  hope  may  bloom, 
And  days  may  come 
Of  milder,  calmer  beam, 
But  there's  nothing  half  so  sweet  in  life 

As  love's  young  dream: 
No,  there's  nothing  half  so  sweet  in  life 
As  love's  young  dream. 

Though  the  bard  to  purer  fame  may  soar, 

When  wild  youth's  past; 
Though  he  win  the  wise,  who  frown'd  before, 
To  smile  at  last; 
He'll  never  meet 
A  joy  so  sweet 
In  all  his  noon  of  fame, 
As  when  first  he  sung  to  woman's  ear 

His  soul-felt  flame, 

And  at  every  close  she  blush'd  to  hear 
The  one  lov'd  name. 

No — that  hallow'd  form  is  ne'er  forgot 

Which  first  love  trac'd; 
Still  it  lingering  haunts  the  greenest  spot 
On  memory's  waste. 
'Twas  odour  fled 
As  soon  as  shed; 
'Twas  morning's  winged  dream; 
'Twas  a  light  that  ne'er  can  shine  again 

On  life's  dull  stream: 
Oh!  'twas  light  that  ne'er  can  shine  again 
On  life's  dull   stream. 

— Thomas  Moore. 


141 


OON  they  were  all  gathered  together 
at  late  breakfast  in  the  little  house; 
and  how  good  everything  tasted 
after  the  recoil  of  their  minds  from 
their  benumbing  tension!  Both  John 
and  Gretchen  were  plied  with  end 
less,  eager  questions,  and  had  to  retell  over  and 
over  again  the  wondrous  story  of  their  unique 
adventure,  adding  fresh  details  of  both  facts 
and  feelings  at  each  essay.  And  John  was  del 
uged  with  praise  and  thanks  at  every  turn  by 
the  visitors  who  crowded  in  upon  them,  while 
Jim  and  Jemima  looked  on  in  unspeakable  pride 
and  with  prayerful  gratitude  to  God. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  afternoon  Gretchen 
was  taken  home  after  a  fond  farewell  to  John; 
and  the  days  that  followed  were  big  with  young- 
love  's  revelations.  In  the  meantime,  Mr.  Hum- 
melmueller  insisted  upon  instantly  paying  over 
to  Jim  for  John's  benefit  the  ten  thousand  dol 
lars  he  had  so  distractedly  offered  the  day  be 
fore  for  his  daughter's  rescue.  John  himself 
persistently  refused  to  accept  it  personally,  say 
ing  that  what  he  had  done  he  would  never  have 
done  for  money.  Jim  was  finally  induced  to 
accept  the  trust  upon  the  advanced  plea  that 
the  interest  upon  the  amount  could  be  used 

142 


LOVE'S  YOUNG  DREAM       143 

toward  defraying  the  expense  of  sending  John 
through  some  eastern  college  upon  his  gradua 
tion  from  high-school;  a  desideratum  to  which 
he  had  longingly  but  hopelessly  aspired.  From 
this  aspiration  he  had  hitherto  been  deterred 
by  both  the  high  cost  of  the  undertaking  and 
the  probable  social  ostracism,  if  not  absolute 
rejection  by  the  examiners  and  university  fac 
ulty,  which  the  disclosure  of  his  color  would 
precipitate. 

Within  the  week,  he  and  Gretchen  were  back 
in  their  accustomed  seats  in  the  high-school; 
and  Bill  Stubbs,  the  unplacated,  found  his  per 
sonal  stock  vastly  depreciated.  Now  he  no 
longer  dared  openly  voice  his  resentment  at 
Gretchen 's  choice  of  companions,  and,  more 
over,  his  hereditary,  bull-headed  insolence  was 
cowed  by  the  masterful  light  in  John's  half- 
a verted  eyes.  Even  a  cheap  fool  can  learn  wis 
dom  in  experience's  expensive  school. 

As  John  and  Gretchen 's  minds  expanded, 
their  hearts  but  followed  suit.  There  are  two 
human  educations — one  of  the  mind,  the  other 
of  the  heart;  and  the  last,  though  but  indiffer 
ently  taught  or  cultivated  in  these  days  of  mul 
titudinous  trusts  and  labor  unions,  is  the  higher 
education  of  the  two. 

Bill  Stubbs  was  not  interested  either  in  the 
one  or  the  other.  He  went  to  school  simply  be- 


144  ERIC  MAROTTE 

cause  he  had  to,  and  looked  forward  with  the 
ignorant  longing  of  the  would-be  parvenu  to 
the  hearts  and  purses  he  felt  himself  destined 
to  ravish  after  the  last  school  bell  should  ring 
for  him. 

He  was  not  absolutely  bad,  but  just  an  ex 
treme  example  of  those  ultra  monde  youths  who 
seem  to  suck  in  selfishness  with  their  mother's 
milk. 

Yet,  even  such  have  the  making  in  them 
sometimes  of  vast  worldly  success,  through  their 
inborn  inability  either  to  see  or  consider  the 
inalienable  rights  of  others,  and  their  fortunate 
(!)  paleness  of  conscience. 

John  and  Gretchen  now  became  more  insep 
arable  than  ever,  and,  but  for  a  wistful  sad 
ness  which  would  at  times  creep  into  the  lat 
ter  's  heart  and  lie  reflected  upon  her  face,  their 
dreams  of  youth  were  all  that  youthful  dreams 
should  be. 

One  night  when  the  air  was  balmy  with  the 
breath  of  autumn's  aromatic  first  decay,  they 
met  at  Gretchen 's  house  and  sat  on  the  back 
porch  beneath  the  early  harvest-moon. 

With  a  delicacy  unusual  in  one  so  young, 
John  had  heretofore  avoided  any  direct  refer 
ence  to  their  close  relations  at  the  time  of  the 
great  lumber-yard  fire,  but  tonight  Gretchen 
herself  introduced  the  subject  by  saying : 


LOVE'S  YOUNG  DREAM       145 

' '  Well,  John,  while  it  is  pleasant  enough  to 
be  living,  I  should  have  been — yes — full  as  well 
content  to  die  that  night  we  slept  together  in 
the  tunnel." 

1 '  Why  ? "  he  asked  her  in  surprise. 

"Something  tells  me  so — I — I  cannot  ex 
plain,  "  she  hurriedly  replied. 

John's  heart  beat  fast,  and  he  bit  his  lips 
to  keep  back  the  impassioned  words  which 
strove  for  utterance  upon  them.  All  he  allowed 
to  pass  them  was: 

"I'm  glad  you  did  not  die." 

She  began  again: 

"They  say  that  life  contains  at  best  more 
pain  than  pleasure,  and  that  the  supreme  mo 
ment  of  our  greatest  happiness  comes  but  once. 
Then  why  tempt  fate  by  living  on  if  you  have 
reason  to  believe  that  that  moment  has  already 
come  and  gone  and  left  its  imprint  indelibly 
stamped  upon  your  heart?"  she  asked. 

"Because  'it  is  not  all  of  life  to  live,  nor  all 
of  death  to  die.'  All  through  our  lives  we  see 
visions  and  chase  transitory  shadows.  Why? 
Because  there  is  within  each  sentient  thing  some 
seed  of  immortality  that  must  await,  not  only 
the  blossoming,  but  the  harvest." 

"Then  you  believe  in  immortality?"  she 
ventured. 

"Certainly!    There   never   was,    nor   could 


146  ERIC  MAROTTE 

there  conceivably  be,  such  a  beginning  as  the 
beginning  of  this  universe,  put  in  motion  simply 
for  the  purpose  of  having  it  continue  and  pro 
ceed  to  a  goalless  end,  like  the  running  down  of 
a  boy's  spinning  top.  There  could  be  no  pos 
sible  or  plausible  object  in  procreating  a  world 
for  no  better  purpose  or  greater  gain  than  to 
go  through  the  task  of  governing  infinite  mo 
tions  and  changes,  simply  to  end  back  in  the 
nothingness  of  its  pre-creation.  What  would 
be  the  incentive?  A  fool  wouldn't  care  to  at 
tempt  it — much  less  a  God." 

'  *  But  tell  me,  John ;  what  is  love — that  power 
higher  still,  which  the  wise-men  say  can  drop  a 
feather  on  a  human  heart  and  tip  the  world's 
scales  against  a  thousand  years  of  guilty,  heart 
less  splendor?" 

' 1  Love,  like  religion,  can  not  be  explained, 
but  still  can  be  most  deeply  felt  and  plainly  un 
derstood.  ' ' 

"Then  you  consider  feeling  a  higher  human 
attribute  than  thinking?" 

"Yes,  sometimes." 

"Talking  of  beginning  and  ending,  why  is 
it  that  everything  seems  so  correlated  to  every 
thing  else  in  this  world  of  ours,  that  there  is  no 
beginning  and  no  end  to  anything  except  as  com 
paratively  regarded?" 

"That  is  only  another  indication  and  proof 


LOVE'S  YOUNG  DREAM       147 

of  immortality.  If  there  were  no  such  state  as 
immortality,  all  things  we  know  could  be  traced 
back  to  their  beginnings  and  forward  to  their 
endings,  regardless  of  the  intricacies  of  their 
correlativeness  with  other  things. " 

"Well,  well,  well!  you're  getting  too  deep 
for  me  with  your  original  metaphysics,  but  what 
is  the  final  solution  of  it  all?" 

1  i  The  solution  of  it  all,  my  dear  young  lady, 
is  Love — the  alpha  and  the  omega,  the  begin 
ning  and  the  end,  the  conception  and  the  cul 
mination,  the  desire  and  its  own  fulfillment. 
Verstehst  du  nichtt"  , 

Gretchen  started  and  blushed,  but  proceeded 
again  in  her  search  for  the  key  to  the  infinity 
of  the  finite. 

1  '  Ah !  love — love  f  From  what  do  you  deduce 
your  so  remarkable  conclusion  that  love  gov 
erns  the  universe!" 

"From  all  things,  abstract  or  concrete,  but 
principally  because  we  are  never  supremely 
happy  except  when  we  possess  it  and  never  so 
supremely  miserable  as  when  we  have  lost  it, 
and  happiness  is  the  ultimate  goal  of  every  ani 
mate  thing  and  the  only  discoverable  key  to  the 
secret  of  the  universe;  ergo  Love  is  It — q.  e.  d." 

"Ah!  let  me  see:  then  you  must  believe  in 
love — may  I  ask  whether  in  the  abstract  or  in 
the  concrete1!" 


148  ERIC  MAROTTE 

"In  the  abstract  as  to  existence,  but  in  the 
concrete  as  to  you." 

"Ye  gods!  was  wary,  cold  philosophy  ever 
more  neatly  trapped,  and  made  to  serve  the  ends 
of  cupid?  John,  you  are  so  very  clever  you  may 
hold  my  hand  for  a  while. "  Hand  met  hand 
in  that  firm  pressure  which  can  mean  everything 
or  nothing,  good  or  bad,  heavenly  blissfulness, 
ordinary  politeness,  or  fawning  venality;  or, 
as  in  this  case,  can  interchange  the  threads  of 
life  for  intertwining. 

The  fickle  moon,  who  never  looks  the  same 
two  nights  together,  rode  in  and  out  among 
the  drifting  clouds,  calm  in  her  regal  glory; 
the  city's  sounds  were  hushed,  or  fell  like  dis 
tant  waters '  rippling  on  the  ear ;  and  daylight, 
with  its  harsh  exposure  of  unsightly  things,  had 
relinquished  its  dominion  to  poetic  Night  with 
her  softened  shapes  and  impressionistic  sky 
lines  of  transfigured  trees  and  buildings.  For 
an  interval  neither  one  spoke. 

Have  you  ever  sat,  or  walked  alone,  with  one 
whose  simple,  silent  presence  was  enough,  and 
felt  that  that  one  could  understand  your 
thoughts  and  heart,  though  not  a  word  was 
spoken  f  There  is  a  language  of  the  heart  which 
needs  no  verbal  medium,  a  telepathy  of  thoughts 
and  emotions  that  has  existed  between  soul- 
mates  and  physical-selection  mates,  from  human 


LOVE'S  YOUNG  DREAM       149 

beings  down  to  the  lowest  in  the  scale  of  ani 
mate  things,  since  Adam  ate  the  apple. 

The  soul  has  windows,  but  their  protecting 
lappets  are  opaque.  He  who  would  look  in 
through  them  must  first  clarify  the  surface 
with  the  diamond  of  kindred  soul. 

A  dog  howled  in  the  distance  and  the  lovers ' 
mutual  meditations  were  broken. 

"I  wonder  if  that  howl  presaged  the  death 
of  anyone  f"  commented  Gretchen,  jokingly. 

"Yes,  the  dog's;'7  returned  John,  "his  un 
happy  prophecy  may  prove  a  boomerang  to  the 
poor  pup  if  he  don't  quit  his  yawping." 

"Speaking  of  death,"  put  in  Gretchen,  "do 
you  remember  those  immortal  lines  in  Long 
fellow's  'Resignation' — 

'There  is  no  flock,  however  watched  and  tended, 

But  one  dead  lamb  is  there; 
There  is  no  fireside,  howsoe'er  defended, 

But  has  one  vacant  chair'?" 

"Yes,  and  these  lines,  it  seems  to  me,  are 
really  sadder  than  death  itself;  for  death  has 
its  compensations.  The  breaking  heart  that's 
left  behind  creates,  in  self-preservation,  an  idol 
of  memory  at  which  it  may  forever  fall  down 
and  worship.  As  Goethe  says  in  his  'Wilhelm 
Meister' — 

'Something  the   heart  must  have  to  cherish, 
Must  love,  and  joy,  and  sorrow  learn; 

Something  with  passion  clasp,  or  perish 
And  in  itself  to  ashes  hum.' " 


150  ERIC  MAROTTE 

Gretchen  shivered,  and  lowered  her  eyes  be 
fore  his  earnest  gaze. 

"I  cannot  bear  to  think  of  love  and  death 
as  being  so  closely  associated, "  she  whispered; 
"it  seems  too  much  like  shrouding  the  happi 
ness  of  our  passion  for  the  living  in  the  terror 
of  their  prescient  loss,  and  so  keeping  death 
with  us  always. " 

i  l  God  is  indeed  merciful  in  withholding  from 
us  all  foreknowledge  of  the  future,  or  all  hap 
piness  would  be,  even  as  you  say,  but  the  hap 
piness  of  a  living  corpse/' 

' '  You  are  becoming  terrible ! ' '  cried  she,  "  oh ! 
do  not  reason  so  horribly!  If  you  wish  me  to 
follow  your  arguments,  do  not  let  them  lead 
that  way! " 

"Nothing  is  terrible  which  can  be  analyzed. 
The  only  really  terrible  thing  in  all  of  life  is 
loss  of  love.  When  a  man  bases  his  one  great 
hope  of  happiness  upon  one  woman's  changeless 
smiles  and  constant,  enduring  approbation  of 
himself,  God  help  him  in  his  froward  self-con 
ceit  !  As  a  rule,  no  woman  really  loves  her  hus 
band,  but  regards  him  simply  as  a  human  means 
towards  some  lower  or  higher  personal  end," 
said  John,  looking  at  her  sadly. 

And  which  of  us  who  have  grown  older,  and 
perhaps  wiser,  since  our  own  adolescent  belief 
in  the  undying  tenderness  of  some  one  particular 


LOVE'S  YOUNG  DREAM       151 

woman,  can  honestly  say  that  his  utterance  was 
not  inspired? 

Gretchen  was  very  young  and,  so  far  as 
women  can  ever  be  sincere  with  men,  she  was 
sincere  with  John.  She  had  not  as  yet  been 
taught  by  other,  older,  women  that  man  is  only 
a  game  to  be  played  on  woman's  own,  special, 
financial  chessboard.  All  women  are,  of  neces 
sity,  more  or  less  mercenary;  because  she  whose 
special  province  it  is  to  receive,  is  always  in 
a  position  to  coldly  estimate  and  damn  the  total 
of  the  contributions  of  him  whose  province  it 
is  to  give,  i.  e.:  the  giver's  ambition  is  limited 
to  his  own  ability,  while  that  of  the  receiver  has 
no  personal  limit. 

A  man  generally  gives  his  love  without  price. 
A  woman  always,  sooner  or  later,  asks,  and 
tries  to  exact,  a  price  for  hers. 

She  often  sells  her  heart — a  man  but  seldom 
does  it.  Perhaps  much  of  this  deplorable  condi 
tion  of  their  psychological  affairs  is  but  the  nat 
ural  result  of  woman's  inferior  position,  politi 
cally  and  commercially,  in  the  present  state 
of  the  body  politic,  and  will  gradually  disap 
pear  with  the  coming  of  her  sure  future  admit 
tance  into  absolute  equality  of  opportunity  with 
men,  in  every  line  of  thought  and  endeavor,  and 
her  resultant  greater  economic  independence. 
The  present  unjust  social  systems  of  the  world 


152  ERIC  MAROTTE 

cannot  stand,  anyhow,  and  will  soon  be  changed, 
either  voluntarily  or  by  force. 

"I'm  afraid  you  have  a  very  poor  opinion 
of  the  average  woman,  John."  Gretchen  spoke 
with  some  coolness. 

"So  much  so  that  when  I  find  an  exception 
to  the  rule  I  know  how  dearly  to  appreciate 
her,"  he  hastened  to  explain,  in  modification  of 
his  severe  views  on  femininity  in  general. 

"And  have  you  yet  found  your  exception — 
your  bright  particular  star  in  the  female  gal 
axy — your — your  petticoated  paragon?" 
"  'Thou  saith  it,'  "  he  laughed. 

"And  is  she  pretty?" 

"Let  me  see." 

"See  what,  you  goose?" 

"Turn  your  face  a  little  more  to  the  moon 
light." 

"Oh!"  She  looked  at  the  moon  and  then  at 
John,  and  shrank  back  into  the  shielding  shad 
ows. 

Presently  she  resumed: 

"Why  do  you  talk  in  parables,  John?" 

"Because  I  am  afraid  of  shocking  you  with 
the  naked  truth  of  my  real  estimation  of  you, 
if  plainly  and  unpoetically  uttered." 

Gretchen  became  thoughtful  and,  from  the 
shadow,  watched  his  face,  with  a  covert,  shy 
tenderness  in  her  own  he  did  not  see.  Their 


LOVE 'S  YOUNG  DREAM  1 53 

conversation  grew  constrained,  and  shortly  John 
excused  himself  on  the  plea  of  having  to  pre 
pare  his  lessons  for  the  morrow  and  arose  to 
bid  her  adieu,  taking  both  her  hands  in  his  in 
a  frank  way  that  cooled  while  warming  her. 

"Good-night,  Gretchen.  Don't  forget  me, 
and  don't  take  too  seriously  my  pedantic  dis 
course.  ' 9 

"Oh — that?  I  believe  you  more  than  half 
meant  it  as  a  curtain-lecture  for  me. ' ' 

"I  only  meant  to  show  you  how  different 
you  are  from  the  majority  of  women." 

"That's  better — well,  good-night,  then,  if  you 
must  go." 

When  the  sound  of  his  retreating  footsteps 
died  away,  Gretchen  did  not  at  once  go  into  the 
house,  but  sat  alone  in  the  big  porch-chair,  rock 
ing  to  her  reveries. 

"I  think  he  loves  me,"  she  kept  repeating 
to  herself,  "but  something  holds  him  back.  It 
cannot  be  anything  that  I  have  said  or  done — 
it  is  something  deeper,  and  darker." 

Then,  in  a  flash,  there  came  to  her  again  the 
realization  of  the  social  gulf  that  lay  between 
them  in  the  eyes  of  the  rest  of  the  world.  She 
bowed  her  head  in  her  hands  and  softly  wept. 

"  0,  if  he  only  knew  how  little  I  regard  that ! ' ' 
she  communed  with  herself.  "He  has  always 


154  ERIC  MAROTTE 

been  a  part  of  my  life.  We  are  bound  together 
by  so  many  ties,  it  cannot  be  that  Heaven  de 
signs  to  break  them  all  for  just  that  one  piteous 
accident  of  his  birth!  I  never  think  of  him 
as  a  Negro.  He  does  not  look  nor  talk  nor  act 
like  one,  except  that  his  complexion  is  very 
dark  and  that  he  seems  to  shrink  from  me  with 
a  sense  of  modesty,  arising  probably,  from  his 
long  and  continued  brooding  over  his  own  sad 
condition  in  life. 

"Oh!  I  cannot  understand  it!  I  can  only 
wait  and  pray." 

She  got  up  from  the  chair  sobbing,  and  en 
tered  the  house,  going  direct  to  her  own  cham 
ber  to  hide  her  tears. 

John  walked  homeward  with  down-cast  eyes, 
a  bitter  hunger  tearing  at  his  heart.  A  cold 
sweat  stood  out  upon  his  forehead  and  he  shook 
with  a  freezing  chill,  in  spite  of  the  warmth  of 
the  night.  Pleading  a  headache,  he,  too,  went 
straight  to  his  room,  and  there  threw  himself 
headlong  upon  his  bed,  biting  the  pillow  to  keep 
from  crying  out  in  the  agony  of  his  contem 
plated  renunciation.  And  throughout  the  long, 
dark  hours  that  followed,  hid  from  all  eyes  save 
those  of  God,  he  wrestled  with  his  tortured,  re 
bellious  heart  as  Jacob  wrestled  with  the  angel. 

A  moaning  wind  came  beating  from  the 
drear  expanses  of  the  distant  lake;  the  moon 


LOVE'S  YOUNG  DREAM       155 

forsook  the  world  behind  black,  driving  clouds; 
darkness  descended  like  a  pall  on  everything; 
and  love's  short,  bitter-ending  act  was  over. 


CHAPTER  X. 


"THE  LEOPARD  AND  HIS  SPOTS:" 
VALEDICTORY 


HOPE'S 


WO  years  went  by,  as  years  will 
pass  in  spite  of  all  that  mortal  man 
can  do  to  stem  their  tide — two 
years  filled  with  such  pleasures 
as  youth  alone  is  given  to  know. 
Childhood  has  its  perquisites  and 
prerogatives  of  happiness,  as  has 
every  stage  of  life's  journey;  but  youth  has 
dreams  that  leap  by  bounds. 

Can  you  remember  when  you  were  sixteen? 
Does  my  question  awaken  in  you  no  cherished 
recollections — no  half -forgotten  griefs! 

Longfellow  cries:  "Let  the  dead  past  bury 
its  dead!"  But  it  cannot;  for  dead  thoughts 
and  emotions  never  really  die,  but  are  only  bur 
ied  alive,  to  arise  again  and  confront  us  anew 
on  many  a  subsequent  occasion. 

There  are  persons  hardly  past  the  middle  life 
who  are  constantly  harping  upon  the  lost  pleas 
ures  of  the  past.  There  are  others  for  whom 
no  pleasure  once  experienced  casts  any  softening 
light  or  shadow  into  their  later  lives.  Both  are 
wrong.  The  past,  the  present  and  the  future 

156 


THE  LEOPARD  AND  HIS  SPOTS         157 

have  each  its  appointed  place  and  province,  yet 
no  one  of  them  is  perfect  in  happiness  without 
the  other  two. 

You  who  are  white  live  but  one  life.  They 
who  are  born  black,  through  no  possible  fault  of 
their  own,  have  a  dual  life — one  what  is;  the 
other  (in  imagination)  what  might  have  been, 
had  they  been  born  white. 

John  was  now  in  the  senior  class  at  high- 
school  and  about  to  graduate  with  high  honors; 
yet,  for  the  past  two  years — indeed,  from  that 
very  night  he  left  Gretchen  on  the  porch  and 
fled  to  his  room  in  all  the  mad  infatuation  of  his 
baffled  first-love — he  had  endured  an  unconquer 
able  condition  of  nervousness,  doubt  and  misery 
such  as  ordinarily  situated  lovers  cannot  con 
ceive.  Awakening  to  the  tremendous  disparity 
between  his  brain  and  his  "social"  status,  he 
was  stung  by  a  thousand  poignant  darts  of  hope 
lessness  and  resentment  that  you  and  I  know 
not  and  can  never  know.  The  world  began  to 
change  about  him;  things  and  persons  seemed  to 
subtly  alter  in  their  phases  and  faces,  as  he  now 
saw  them;  and  his  own  love  appeared  to  grow 
more  hopeless  day  by  day. 

Gretchen  herself  did  not  change  towards  him, 
but  that  very  fact  only  put  him  the  more  on  his 
guard,  as  it  added  to  his  responsibility  towards 
her.  He  felt  strongly  that  even  the  reward  of 


158  ERIC  MAROTTE 

priceless  happiness  to  himself  could  not  justify 
him  in  bringing  certain  ruin  upon  the  one  he 
loved.  He  tried  desperately  to  withdraw  away 
from  her  society ;  but  she  would  not  have  it  so. 
She  ignored  every  hint  of  his,  and  only  clung 
to  him  the  more  closely  with  each  repulse ;  until 
he  fairly  gnashed  his  teeth  in  his  melancholy, 
like  a  tortured  spirit  in  hell.  Hers  was  one  of 
those  rare  human  hearts  that  can  love  but  once, 
and  that  once  forever.  There  are  such  hearts! 
Besides,  she  understood  instinctively  that  it  was 
his  racial  position,  and  not  his  heart,  which 
drove  John  in  his  attempts  to  keep  up  an  ap 
pearance  of  estrangement  from  her.  It  all  went 
down  in  nothingness  before  her  unabashed 
fealty  to  him;  and  struggle  as  he  might  against 
it,  he  knew  in  his  own  heart  of  hearts  that  he 
was  fated  to  love,  and  to  be  loved  by,  her.  What 
was  he  to  do?  Which  way  should  one  turn  in 
his  awful  predicament?  The  world  has  never 
yet  found  a  satisfying  answer  to  such  question. 
The  doctrine  that  all  men  are  created  equal  has 
never  been  successfully  upheld,  outside  of  mere 
political  equality.  "The  leopard  cannot  change 
his  spots, "  nor  the  black  man  change  his  color. 
'  *  Like  murder,  it  will  out. ' ' 

Graduation  day  approached  at  the  "Central 
High, '  >  and  John,  despite  his  mental  worry  and 
heaviness  of  heart,  had  so  far  surpassed  all 


THE  LEOPARD  AND  HIS  SPOTS         159 

those  around  him  in  intellectual  growth  that  he 
was,  perforce,  to  be  the  valedictorian  of  his 
class,  the  deputied  writer  of  the  prize  essay.  Yet 
his  very  isolation  of  scholastic  elevation  but 
drove  home  to  him  the  cruelty  of  his  racial  in 
equality  with  the  others.  The  news  of  his  new 
eminence  was  bruited  about  the  city  in  ever- 
widening  circles;  and  when  commencement  day 
finally  came,  hundreds  of  persons,  attracted  to 
the  school's  exercises  by  the  promise  of  the  un 
usual  spectacle  of  a  Negro  valedictorian, 
crowded  the  "hall"  to  see  and  hear  him.  There 
was  not  even  standing  room  left  when  the  hour 
struck.  The  usual  program  of  pedagogic  ad 
dress,  class  singing,  essays,  declamations,  et  cet 
era,  was  followed  by  the  audience  with  some 
what  impatient  good-nature;  until  the  school's 
principal  stepped  forward  on  the  stage  and  an 
nounced  the  final  number  on  the  program,  the 
reading  of  the  valedictory — before  the  diplomas 
were  given  out  and  the  work  of  the  scholars 
should  be  over  forever  and  the  class  ceased  to 
be.  All  eyes  were  bent  curiously  upon  John 
as  he  came  slowly  forward  to  the  edge  of  the 
little  ; ;  stage "  and  seriously  and  diffidently 
bowed  his  head  before  those  doubly  critical 
minds  expecting,  as  they  did,  nothing  short  of 
genius,  yet  ready  at  the  first  slight  indication  of 
mental  weakness  to  "lay  back"  in  luxurious 


160  ERIC  MAROTTE' 

superiority  and  say  to  themselves, l  i  Pretty  good 
for  a  nigger. " 

No  one,  not  the  principal  himself,  knew  what 
the  subject  of  the  essay  was,  and  even  the  gradu 
ating  class  leaned  forward  with  tense  expect 
ancy  to  catch  its  title  when  it  should  drop  from 
John's  pale  lips.  With  the  abruptness  of  the 
unprecedented  it  came:  "Indeterminateness." 
People  looked  at  each  other  in  consternation 
and  gasped,  while  John  read  on,  holding  his 
ribbon- tied  manuscript  with  tremulous  hands, 
as  follows: 

"The  boundaries  of  thought,  unlike  those 
physical  and  geographical  things  which  man 
can  accurately  measure,  are  indeterminate. 
Man's  world,  in  which  he  really  lives,  is  not  the 
outward  world  around  him,  but  the  world  of 
constant,  never-ceasing  thought.  And  this 
world  has  no  beginning  and  no  end,  but  in  un 
conscious,  perpetual  motion,  goes  on  while  hu 
man  life  exists.  At  best  it  is  but  kaleidoscopic 
and  dream-like,  and  never  to  be  trusted  to  re 
peat  again  exactly  the  same  outlines  or  colors 
in  the  same  mutual  juxtaposition. 

"  Science  tries  to  teach  the  exact  result  and 
to  trace  back  the  causes  producing  that  result; 
but,  after  all  the  hundreds  of  years  of  study  and 
experiment  by  man,  science  has  awakened  a 
hundred  new  doubts  and  raised  a  hundred  new 


THE  LEOPARD  AND  HIS  SPOTS         161 

questions  for  every  one  it  has  solved  or  an 
swered;  and  the  ratio  of  the  indeterminate  to 
the  determined  has  steadily  increased  from  age 
to  age.  Today  we  know  far  less  in  proportion 
to  what  we  see  to  learn  than  ever.  Which 
only  goes  to  prove  the  immortality  of  creation 
and  of  the  Master  Mind  and  Power  which,  no 
matter  how  far  or  high  we  may  have  pro 
gressed,  has  ever  foreseen  our  requirements  and 
placed  the  material  for  all  our  wonderful  dis 
coveries  in  waiting  readiness  for  us  a  million 
years  ahead  of  the  slow  and  painful  meander- 
ings  of  our  comparatively  insectile  brains. 
Great  as  the  mind  may  be  considered  which 
charms  discoveries  from  their  hidden  haunts 
in  anything  animate  or  inanimate,  how  much 
greater  must  be  that  Mind  which  first  placed 
them  there  to  be  discovered. 

"We  are,  all  of  us,  nothing  but  students. 
We  can  create  nothing — It  was  all  there  before 
us.  The  best  and  wisest  of  us  can  but  simply 
translate  in  some  new  and  more  original  way,  or 
grasp  and  hold  some  hitherto-hidden  applica 
tion  of,  the  truths  that  always  were. 

"And  this  indeterminateness  is,  in  many 
ways,  a  distinct  and  direct  blessing  to  us.  Take 
for  instance,  life  and  death.  Who  could  endure 
to  live  if  he  were  certain  of  the  hour  of  his 
death?  And  who  bear  to  be  born  if  he  could 


162  ERIC  MAROTTE 

foresee  the  trials  destined  to  Ms  lot?  Then, 
again,  what  incentive  could  anyone  have  to  am 
bitious  effort  if  he  could  know  in  advance  his 
ultimate  success  or  failure?  The  effort  would 
not  interest  him  in  itself,  since  in  either  case 
the  end  was  sure.  So,  *  where  ignorance  is  bliss, 
'tis  folly  to  be  wise.' 

"The  heart  of  the  mother  who  so  fondly 
gazes  on  her  new-born  child,  is  filled  with  the 
glory  of  his  imagined  future  achievements. 
Fifty  years  later,  when  the  actual  result  of  that 
child's  earthly  career  has  been  determined  past 
peradventure  or  redemption,  the  mother  has 
died  with  those  early  dreams  of  hers  for  him 
all  unfulfilled  and  left  him  to  his  proven  medi 
ocrity.  Would  she  have  been  any  happier  if 
she  could  have  known  all  this  in  advance? 

"Indeterminateness  is  and  always  has  been, 
the  greatest  spur  to  progress  the  world  of  men 
has  ever  known,  and  has,  accordingly,  a  cor 
responding  greatness  of  value.  Without  it  we 
would  all  stagnate  on  one  common,  easy  level, 
with  our  interest  in  life  exhausted  before  it  was 
fairly  excited.  The  hunting,  far  more  than  the 
quarry,  attracts  us,  if  we  only  knew  it. 

' t  There  are  those  who  strive  for  great  things, 
and  others  that '  also  serve,  who  only  stand  and 
wait';  but  with  the  one,  as  with  the  other,  the 
future  is  brightened  only  and  solely  by  expecta- 


THE  LEOPARD  AND  HIS  SPOTS         163 

tion  of  good  not  yet  assured — the  indeterminate- 
ness  of  each  yet-unsucceeding  moment. 

"  Again,  if  the  results  of  battles  could  be 
foreseen  by  men,  there  would  be  no  battles;  for 
the  weaker  would  never  go  to  war  with  the 
stronger  predestined,  as  they  would  be,  to  de 
feat;  but  would  retreat  or  compromise  in  time. 
And  here  indeterminateness  is  a  curse  indeed. 

"If  geniuses  and  inventors  could  see  ahead 
of  them  the  rocky  heights  and  bottomless 
abysses  of  their  preordinate  ways  instead  of  the 
single,  simple,  upward  step  necessary  to  fill 
each  passing  hour  with  progress,  they  would 
hesitate,  aghast  at  the  idiotic  sublimity  of  their 
own  presumption,  and  we  should  be,  as  a  peo 
ple,  a  thousand  years  behind  our  present  state 
of  advancement. 

"Without  uncertainty,  all  human  efforts 
would  cease  tomorrow  and  anarchy  result. 

"Love  itself  feeds  on  its  very  doubts,  and 
hell  has  no  such  terrors  for  us  now  as  it  would 
have  were  its  actual  determinateness  provable. 

' '  We  who  are  gathered  here  today  shall  never 
again  be  thus  gathered  together  to  a  man.  Our 
roads  shall  part  before  the  sun  goes  down.  We 
each  and  all  must  go  our  several  ways,  subservi 
ent  to  the  will  and  law  of  that  one  Power  alone 
Who  is  determinate. 

"Memory  itself  shall  fade,  and  millions  yet 


164  ERIC  MAROTTE 

unborn  shall  have  begun  to  tread  in  our  long- 
familiar  paths,  ere  yet  the  echoes  of  our  last, 
faint  footsteps  can  have  died  away  and  our 
little  pains  and  pleasures  be  no  more. 

"If  there  were  no  other  proof,  indetermin- 
ateness  alone  teaches  us  that  there  is  a  God 
and  that  that  God  is  as  merciful  as  wise  in  the 
knowledge  He  withholds  from  us  while  here. 

"  We  only  know,  'What  ever  is,  is  right/  and 
that  the  past  is  but  as  yesterday  and  the  grave 
is  but  tomorrow. " 

Not  a  sound  was  heard  during  John's  deliv 
ery  of  his  essay,  and  the  entire  audience  sat 
with  silent,  gaping  faces. 

When  he  stopped  and  quietly  took  his  seat, 
not  a  person  moved.  The  principal  sat  with  his 
forehead  leaned  upon  his  hand,  lost  to  all  sur 
roundings.  The  big  clock  on  the  wall  ticked  on 
in  its  little  record  of  eternity;  and  when  the 
people  shortly  recovered  from  their  abstraction, 
there  was  no  applause,  but  instead  they  spoke 
to  each  other  in  whispers,  looking  about  in  half- 
guilty  fearfulness. 

Noting  this,  John 's  face  grew  red  and  white 
by  turns  in  his  inability  to  understand  the  mean 
ing  of  such  a  reception.  Then  a  strange  thing 
happened — one  of  those  unaccountable  actions 
of  a  common,  inspired  impulse  in  a  homogen 
eous  audience.  All  those  at  the  gathering  ap- 


THE  LEOPARD  AND  HIS  SPOTS         165 

peared  to  rise  from  their  seats  automatically, 
as  from  the  pressure  of  a  common  spring.  With 
one  accord  they  pressed  forward  to  the  plat 
form,  and  as  they  passed  by  it  in  an  unbroken 
line,  one  by  one  they  held  out  their  hands  to 
John  in  silence  as  he  instinctively  rose  to  his 
feet  to  meet  them.  Then  they  went  as  silently 
back  to  their  former  seats.  When  the  last  hand 
shake  had  been  given,  John  sat  down  again 
and  gazed  at  them  all  with  wild,  unbelieving 
eyes  for  a  moment.  Then  he  got  to  his  feet  and 
tried  in  vain  to  speak,  burst  into  tears,  and  hur 
riedly  left  the  room. 

And  then  the  spell  was  broken  and  pande 
monium  broke  loose  in  the  old  hall;  and  the 
storming  cheers,  applause  and  stamping  of  feet 
shook  the  very  plaster  loose  and  caused  the 
passers-by  on  the  street  below  to  congregate  in 
an  inquisitive,  questioning  crowd.  While  the 
excitement  was  at  its  height,  Gretchen,  who  was 
in  the  graduating  class  on  the  platform,  slipped 
softly  out  after  John,  and,  by  hurrying,  over 
took  him  in  the  lower  hallway  of  the  school- 
house.  Hearing  her  pursuing  footsteps,  he 
turned  around  abruptly  just  as  he  was  about  to 
open  the  street-door,  and  in  the  dim  light  of 
the  gray  old  hallway  awaited  her  approach 
with  a  beating  heart  and  a  flushed,  bewildered 
face.  He  did  not,  even  now,  comprehend  nor 


166  ERIC  MAROTTE 

appreciate  the  extraordinary  effect  of  his  essay 
upon  its  hearers. 

Gretchen  did  not  falter  a  second  in  her  de 
termination,  but,  going  impulsively  up  to  him, 
took  his  face  in  her  two  hands  and  stared  fix 
edly  and  passionately  into  his  eyes. 

"0,  John!'*  she  cried,  "how  could  you  do 
it?  It  was  wonderful,  wonderful!  But,  oh! 
dear  heart,  how  sad,  how  sad!  I  have  watched 
you  mutely  suffering  for  months — and  it  nearly 
broke  my  heart — but,  oh !  I  did  not  dream  that 
one  so  young  as  you  could  already  have  suffered 
so  much  as  to  have  written  that!" 

Her  rosy  face  was  white  now,  and  the  slow 
tears  flowed  against  her  will.  Her  lips  trembled 
piteously,  but  she  held  her  ground  and  would 
not  let  him  go. 

John  took  her  hands  and  covered  them  with 
contrite  kisses,  saying  as  he  released  them: 

"I  am  so  sorry  to  have  pained  you — you 
who  alone  can  read  my  heart  aright,  and  for 
whom  I  would  gladly  die. 

"May  God  reward  and  keep  you,  for  you 
know  that  I  can  not!" 

Then,  unable  longer  to  control  his  emotions, 
he  forced  his  feet  to  turn  aside,  and  with  a 
stifled  sob  passed  out  the  door,  leaving  her 
standing  immovable,  there  where  he  had  left 
her,  with  outstretched  arms;  and  on  her  face 


THE  LEOPARD  AND  HIS  SPOTS         167 

was  the  agonized  look  of  one  who  had  ' l  watched 
him  as  a  friend  would  watch  beside  a  dying 
friend." 


CHAPTER  XL 

BILL  STUBBS  COMMITS  THE  UNPARDONABLE  SIN 

|OHN'S  diploma  was  delivered  to 
his  parents  for  him  after  he  had 
left  the  hall.  They  soon  followed 
him  home  in  some  trepidation; 
and  there  they  greatly  reassured 
him  with  the  enthusiastic  encomiums  of  the  au 
ditors,  which  they  retailed  him.  His  heart  re 
bounded  from  its  abnormal  sensitiveness,  and 
he  could  now  contemplate  the  whole  affair  in 
its  true  proportions.  He  even  began  to  feel  the 
thrill  of  conscious  victory. 

The  following  summer  vacation  was  a  mem 
orable  one  to  him.  Although  he  would,  pos 
sibly,  have  been  admitted  to  several  universi 
ties  or  colleges  upon  his  high-school  diploma 
alone,  he  preferred  to  pass  the  regular  examina 
tions  for  entering  Yale  University.  The  pre 
liminary  examinations  were  held  in  Chicago, 
for  the  western  applicants  for  admission,  early 
in  the  summer,  and  these  he  passed  without 
"conditions";  so  he  was  now  qualified  for  the 
freshman  class,  with  no  necessity  for  "brush 
ing  up"  or  "cramming"  for  any  further,  final 
"exams"  at  the  university  itself  in  the  fall. 

168 


THE  UNPARDONABLE  SIN  169 

This  left  him  entirely  free  to  enjoy  his  whole 
vacation  time,  untrammeled  by  studies  and  with 
full  mental  relaxation;  and  he  threw  up  his  hat 
in  boyish  exultation. 

The  fund  put  aside  in  trust  for  him  by 
Gretchen's  father  at  the  time  of  the  fire,  had 
now  perceptibly  increased  in  amount,  and  its 
re-investment  to  still  better  advantage,  with 
what  his  foster-parents  could  afford  to  add  to 
it,  would  furnish  an  income  amply  sufficient  for 
his  tuition  and  modest  needs  while  at  college. 
His  foster-parents  were  prospering  and  did  not 
need  him  at  home.  He  had,  therefore,  no  finan 
cial  worries  and  looked  forward  to  his  college 
career  with  pleasurable  exhilaration. 

No  man  or  woman,  howsoever  old,  can  think 
back  upon  the  period  of  his  or  her  university 
matriculation  all  unmoved.  It  is,  at  least,  a 
high-light  of  the  past;  and  the  bright  pictures 
of  imagination  and  the  momentary  glory  of 
achievement  that  were  so  pleasant  then,  can 
never  lose  their  precious  hold  upon  the  aging 
heart. 

John  felt  as  few  who  are  not  black  have  ever 
felt,  the  rainbow  radiance  of  that  mental  view; 
but  o'er  it  all  there  often  fell  the  old  dread 
shadow  of  his  racial  inequality. 

Mind  you,  I  do  not  broadly  claim  that  every 
Negro  mourns  over  his  race  so  bitterly  as  John 


170  ERIC  MAROTTE 

did.  He  was  an  exception  to  the  usual  run  of 
Negroes,  bred  to  serve  as  laborers  or  servants : 
but  so  it  was  with  him. 

And  yet,  with  it  all,  the  days  were  halcyon 
enough,  and  friends  were  kind  and  life  held 
many  sparkling  gems  of  interest  for  him — '  '  full 
many  a  gem  of  purest  ray  serene. "  Like  some 
young,  wild  animal  running  free,  he  stopped  to 
nibble  where  the  prospect  pleased. 

After  her  tender,  pathetic  appeal  to  John  in 
the  hallway  of  the  old  high-school  through 
whose  portals  they  were  never  again  to  pass  as 
scholars,  he  almost  gave  up  his  struggle  against 
the  dictates  of  his  own  heart,  and  saw  much  of 
Gretchen,  both  at  her  home  and  in  the  parks 
and  distant  fields  and  woods  through  which 
they  frequently  wandered  together  on  sunny 
days. 

Who  would  repeat  in  chilly  type  all  that  the 
birds  sang  to  them,  all  that  the  flowers  hinted, 
all  the  idle,  joyous  words  that  passed  between 
them,  and  their  youthfully  serious  platitudes  on 
life?  These  things,  seemingly  so  trivial  and  un 
important,  were  but  new  translations  of  the 
same  old  tale  of  love. 

And  yet  they  did  not  speak  of  love  to  each 
other  openly  and  directly.  That  pure  restraint 
which  holds  the  idol  of  the  heart  too  sacred  to 
be  idly  broached  in  words  or  idly  handled  lest 


THE  UNPARDONABLE  SIN  171 

it  be  broken  or  desecrated,  kept  back  the  sen 
tences  that  oft-times  trembled  on  their  lips.  But 
Love  has  a  thousand  eyes,  a  thousand  kinds  of 
tongues,  and  ears  attuned  to  myriad  hidden 
meanings.  He  has  no  need  of  mere  human 
words  to  make  his  young  disciples  see  and  hear 
and  understand  after  he  has  thrown  his  mantle 
o'er  their  shoulders. 

Ah,  Love — Love!  Thou  art  so  young,  so 
frail!  Thou  diest  on  the  nuptial  bed!  There 
is  no  love  after  marriage — only  self-interest, 
disillusion,  repulsion,  hatred  and  reaction;  or, 
more  happily,  esteem,  conscientious  copartner 
ship,  admiration  and  unselfishness;  the  last  the 
greatest  of  them  all.  The  heart  still  revolves 
about  its  little  sun  of  happiness,  but  more 
slowly  and  in  a  less  ecstatic  orbit.  Fortunate 
indeed  are  those  to  whom  a  child  or  more  be 
born;  for  then  the  shadow  of  the  old  love  falls 
once  more  upon  them,  and  the  evanescent,  in 
tangible  felicity  of  their  former  youth  is  tran 
substantiated  into  enduring  maternal  and  pa 
ternal  tenderness  of  affection.  In  the  glamour 
of  their  children 's  lives  they  live  their  own  lives 
over  again. 

But  while  John  and  Gretchen  were  thus  col 
laborating  in  the  production  of  their  living 


172  ERIC  MAROTTE 

idyll,  serene  in  their  lover-like  belief 

"That  Nature  never  hints  in  vain, 
Nor  prophesies  amiss," 

Bill  Stubbs  was  far  from  idle  in  another  way. 

He  had  graduated  with  the  rest  in  John 
and  Gretchen's  class  at  the  high-school,  the 
professors,  acting  as  a  single  body,  obligingly 
marking  his  final  examination  papers  just  high 
enough  to  let  him  slip  through,  in  pliable  com 
pliance  with  their  mutual  desire  to  be  forever 
rid  of  each  other. 

Stubbs  had  no  collegiate  ambitions,  he 
openly  opining  that  there  was  "a  hell  of  a  lot 
more  money  in  ' sticking  pigs'  than  in  writing- 
books  ";  and,  as  "  Satan  finds  some  mischief 
still  for  idle  hands  to  do,"  he  set  about  devising 
some  scheme  to  injure  John,  if  possible,  before 
he  should  have  started  for  Yale. 

He  hated  him  cordially,  with  a  hate  that  fed 
upon  each  new  triumph  of  the  latter,  no  matter 
how  honestly  and  unaffectedly  it  was  brought 
about  and  borne. 

Taking  advantage  of  the  purely  conven 
tional  hospitality  of  the  Hummelmuellers,  he 
called  at  their  house  frequently,  and  tried  to 
make  himself  at  least  superficially  agreeable 
to  them.  He  was  not  unaware  of  the  fact  that 
they  tolerated  him  simply  out  of  ingrained  po 
liteness — just  because  he  was  a  human  being 


THE  UNPARDONABLE  SIN  173 

and  an  acquaintance;  but  such  half-hearted 
welcome  did  not  feaze  him  in  the  least.  To 
tally  lacking  in  proper  respect  for  others,  he 
had,  himself,  no  self-respect. 

The  role  of  interloper  and  eavesdropper  just 
suited  him.  It  gave  him  an  abortive  sense  of 
power  to  sneak  up  softly  behind  others  whom 
he  suspected  to  be  talking  about  him  (or,  for 
that  matter,  about  anything  else  of  a^  confi 
dential  nature),  and  to  note  the  embarrassment 
in  their  faces  on  suddenly  becoming  aware  that 
they  had  been  unwarrantably  placed  by  him 
under  his  personal  espionage.  He  seemed  to 
be  lost  to  all  sense  of  personal  shame,  actually 
believing  that  what  he  did  was  considered  by 
those  around  him  as  evidencing  his  "  smart 
ness.  " 

He  employed  this  "talent"  to  such  good 
purpose  on  the  "Island"  that  he  eventually 
overheard  some  slight  reference  to  John's  first 
arrival  there  as  a  foundling.  This  gave  him 
his  needed  "cue,"  and  it  was  not  long  before 
he  had  wormed  the  whole  story  out  of  a  certain 
estimable  but  garrulous  old  woman  whom 
Gretchen  had  visited,  with  himself  as  escort, 
on  an  errand  of  mercy. 

He  later  visited  alone  this  loyal  old  lady, 
and  posed  to  her  as  a  warm  friend  of  John's; 
and  he  so  gained  upon  her  confidence  by  some 


174  ERIC  MAROTTE 

petty,  inexpensive  act  of  chivalry  towards  her, 
that  she  took  it  for  granted  that  he  was  a 
gentleman. 

She  supposed,  since  he  appeared  to  be  so 
intimate  with  the  Hummelmuellers  and  was  a 
recent  classmate  of  John's,  that  he  must  be 
already  in  possession  of  the  facts  of  John's  early 
history  which  were  so  widely  known  to  the 
"Goose  Islanders";  and  she  presumed,  naturally 
enough,  that  he  was  not  lacking  in  that  univer 
sal  discretion  which  had  heretofore  sealed  the 
lips  of  all  her  neighbors  when  in  John's  pres 
ence,  as  to  the  latter 's  being  only  the  adopted 
son  of  Jim  and  Jemima  and  not  their  own,  nat 
ural  offspring. 

Had  she  dreamed  for  a  minute  of  the  use 
to  which  Stubbs  intended  to  put  her  delight 
fully  reminiscent  information,  she  would  have 
given  up  her  false  teeth  rather  than  to  have 
uttered  a  word  of  it  to  him. 

Now,  it  is  a  mark — an  encouraging  indica 
tion,  of  the  inherent  goodness  of  heart  in  the 
human  race — that,  though  the  fact  may  be 
known  to  hundreds  who  daily  come  in  contact 
with  them,  the  cases  in  which  children  legally 
adopted  in  their  infancy  are  deliberately  told 
by  others  that  those  whom  they  have  learned 
to  regard  with  love  and  respect  as  their  own 
rightful  parents  are  really  bound  to  them  by 


THE  UNPARDONABLE  SIN  175 

no  ties  of  blood,  are  very  few  and  far  between. 
This  is  the  one  secret  which  the  many  instinct 
ively  keep  from  the  few;  the  secret  that  even 
a  woman  can  keep  from  those  whose  hearts  its 
disclosure  would  so  deeply  and  unnecessarily 
wound,  even  though  it  did  them  no  material 
injury. 

Sooner  or  later  most  adopted  children  find 
out  their  true  relations  to  their  foster-parents ; 
but  fortunately,  their  sad  enlightenment  gener 
ally  comes  later  in  life,  when  they  have  grown 
old  enough  to  understand  and  appreciate  the 
strength  and  nobleness  of  the  love  that  first 
took  them  in,  and  still  holds  them  fully  as  dear 
as  children  of  their  foster-parents'  own  loins 
might  have  been  to  them. 

Then  the  blow  is  softened  to  the  adopted 
ones  by  their  recollections  of  their  foster-pa 
rents'  long,  unselfish  devotion;  and  while  their 
hearts  may  bleed  for  a  time,  the  wound  is  often 
healed  without  a  scar. 

More  often  than  not,  where  the  secret  is 
prematurely  disclosed  to  those  concerned,  the 
disclosing  is  done  by  some  unthinking  school 
mate  and  companion  or  some  half  vicious,  en 
vious  child, — who  "know  not  what  they  do." 

But  to  premeditate  in  cold  blood  such  un 
timely  divulgence  and  then  clandestinely  carry 
out  such  design  for  revenge  alone,  is,  thank 


176  ERIC  MAROTTE 

God!  very,  very  unusual — much  more  so  than 
downright  murder!  And  no  one  needs  to  be 
told  why.  It  is  the  "Unpardonable  Sin." 

About  a  week  after  Bill  Stubbs'  pregnant 
interview  with  the  old  lady  on  the  "  Island, " 
John  came  home  late  one  night,  after  escort 
ing  Gretchen  back  from  a  down-town  theatre, 
where  they  had  both  shed  honest,  heartfelt 
tears  over  the  pathetic  play  of  "  Hazel  Kirke." 

At  the  door  Jemima  handed  him  a  soiled 
envelope  that  had  come  through  the  mail  ad 
dressed  to  him  in  an  evidently  disguised  hand. 

Attaching  no  particular  importance  to  it, 
he  kissed  his  foster-mother  good  night  and  took 
it  with  him  into  his  own  bedroom,  where  he 
laid  it  unopened  on  the  bureau  while  he  un 
dressed.  He  forgot  it  for  the  moment  in  his 
fresh  memories  of  the  agonies  undergone  by 
the  doomed  but  devoted  mother  in  the  story  of 
Hazel  Kirke  when  her  own  son  lay  dying  in 
her  arms,  and  all  the  while  kept  hoping  that 
he  might  meet  his  own  mother  in  Heaven ;  and 
she  dared  not  tell  him  that  he  was  even  then 
in  that  mother's  living  arms,  held  tight  against 
that  mother's  own  breaking,  dying  heart,  that 
still  must  go  on  denying  itself  and  him,  even 
as  his  little  feet  were  entering  at  the  Portal  of 
the  City  Celestial,  from  which  she  could  no 
longer  hold  him  back — through  which  portal 


THE  UNPARDONABLE  SIN  177 

she  even  could  not  pass  beside  him  hand-in- 
hand,  as  she  so  fervently  prayed  to  do. 

"  Could  anything  in  real  life  be  so  sad  as 
that?"  John  wondered.  His  fingers  were  reach 
ing  for  the  key  to  turn  out  the  lamp,  when  his 
gaze  again  fell  on  the  envelope.  Mechanically  he 
took  it  up  and  turned  it  over  in  his  hands.  He 
could  think  of  no  one  who  was  likely  to  have 
written  him,  as  he  had  no  regular  correspond 
ents  and  certainly  none  who  wrote  so  peculiar 
a  "hand."  Still  he  suspected  no  evil  in  it.  He 
tore  open  the  envelope.  It  contained  but  one 
soiled,  single  sheet  half  covered  with  badly  writ 
ten,  illiterate  words.  He  looked  at  first  for  the 
signature.  There  was  none.  It  was  that  cow 
ardly,  criminal,  snake-like  thing,  an  anonymous 
letter. 

His  brows  bent  over  it  in  a  puzzled  frown, 
he  began  to  read  it.  Its  curt,  damnable  con 
tents  were  as  follows: 

"Mistur  jon  Maning, 

Deer  Sir: — the  riter  hoo  miens  wel  bi  yu  sins  yu  wunc 
dun  him  a  gud  favur  now  taks  his  Pen  in  Han  to  tel  yu 
sum  thin  yu  ott  to  no  for  yure  own  Pertekshun  the  Nagurs 
wich  yu  think  ar  yure  Parunts  ar  not  so — you  can  ast 
them  yoursel,  this  is  strate. 

a  frende." 

John's  first  impulse  was  to  tear  the  letter 
to  pieces  in  indignation;  then  its  uncouth  word 
ing  and  spelling  made  him  laugh,  and  he  hesi 
tated.  He  read  it  over  again,  and  his  face  paled 


178  EEIC  MAROTTE 

at  the  thought  of  its  possible  greatness  of  sig 
nificance.  It  began  to  worry  him.  He  thought 
rapidly: 

"  Could  there  be  any  truth  in  its  bald  asser 
tion?  Were  Jim  and  Jemima  not  his  own  pa 
rents,  after  all?  Who  was  he,  then?  To  what 
previous  condition  of  life  might  he  not  really 
have  been  born?" 

"Oh!  it  must  be  all  a  malicious  lie — a  prac 
tical  joke!  Who  could  have  sent  the  letter? 
Why?  What  'protection'  did  he  need?" 

The  poison  in  the  note  commenced  to  rankle 
within  him;  yet  hopefully  he  thought: 

"Ah!  then  perhaps  he  was  not  a  Negro  at 
all!" 

His  heart  oppressed  him;  he  could  not 
breathe;  he  threw  open  the  window-sash  and 
looked  out  on  the  night  for  inspiration.  The 
veins  on  his  forehead  pulsed  with  excitement; 
the  quick  trip-hammer  of  moral  fright  pounded 
in  his  heart. 

"He  must  look  into  this! — No,  he  must  not! 
How  could  he  ask  his  mother  such  a  question? 
— she  who  had  loved  him  so ! " 

"Why  had  not  his  parents — his  good,  tender, 
loving  parents,  told  him  all  this  before,  when 
they  knew  how  he  suffered  from  the  taunts  of 
his  schoolmates,  who  called  him  'a  nigger'? 


THE  UNPARDONABLE  SIN  179 

Probably  because  there  was  no  truth  in  that 
vile  note,  and  he  was  their  own  son." 

He  called  up  before  his  mind's  eye  the  faces 
of  his  foster-parents,  and  going  to  the  mirror, 
compared  his  own  face  with  his  mental  picture 
of  theirs. 

"No;  there  was  certainly  no  traceable  re 
semblance  between  his  and  that  of  either  of  the 
others!" 

"But  he  must  be  cautious — he  must  not  hurt 
their  feelings  or  appear  to  doubt  them.  God! 
would  this  suspense  never  end?  What  was 
going  to  happen  to  him  now?" 

"Well;  he  would  try  to  sleep  and  forget  it 
all.  To-morrow,  maybe,  he  could  think  more 
clearly.  But  could  he  sleep  now  with  this  ter 
rible  revelation  hanging  over  him,  suspended 
there  like  the  sword  of  Damacles?  It  was  hor 
rible — horrible ! 

"Was  he  actually  himself,  or  was  he  some 
one  else?  Why  not  someone  else?  Was  it  not 
strange  after  all,  that  one  should  be  one's  self, 
and  not  someone  else?  How  would  it  seem  to 
occupy  the  body,  be  controlled  by  the  spirit,  of 
another?" 

His  brain  reeled  and  whirled;  he  thought  of 
his  foster-parents,  of  Gretchen,  of  God.  He 
fell  down  upon  his  knees  and  prayed  for 


180  ERIC  MAROTTE 

strength  and  guidance  to  combat  his  awful  in 
decision — to  decide  aright  and  wrong  no  one. 

Hours  passed  and  he  had  not  stirred.  At 
six  o'clock  in  the  morning  Jemima,  coming  in 
to  call  him,  found  him  sound  asleep  on  his  knees 
beside  the  unused  bed.  His  prayers  had  been 
in  a  measure  answered ;  for  God  had  ' l  given  his 
beloved  sleep. " 

He  awoke  with  a  start,  and  gazed  at  his  fos 
ter-mother  confusedly,  his  mind  still  a  blank. 
Then  memory  came  knocking  at  the  door  of 
his  consciousness,  and  he  threw  himself  onto 
the  bed,  trembling  and  afraid. 

Jemima,  agitated  in  her  turn  by  his  unac 
countable  behavior,  smoothed  back  the  hair 
from  his  forehead  and  whispered:  "What  was 
it  John,  dear — a  bad  dream?  Go  to  sleep  again 
and  forget  it.  I'll  call  you  a  little  later.  There 
is  no  need  of  your  getting  up  so  early  now, 
anyway." 

He  "turned  his  face  to  the  wall"  and  cow 
ered  under  the  bed  clothes  in  a  "blue  funk." 
He  dared  not  face  her,  in  his  fear  of  betraying 
his  dread  secret,  but  gave  her  some  smothered, 
irrelevant  reply  in  dismissal. 

Greatly  perturbed,  but  humoring  him  in  this 
strange  new  whim  of  his,  she  "patted"  the 
spread  about  him  and,  sure  now  that  something 
distressing  was  on  his  mind,  she  tiptoed  out 


THE  UNPARDONABLE  SIN  181 

of  the  room,  promising  herself  to  keep  a  watch 
ful  ear  and  eye  upon  him  from  the  kitchen. 

As  she  brushed  past  the  foot  of  the  bed,  her 
foot  struck  something  that  faintly  rustled,  and, 
looking  down,  she  espied  the  unfolded  letter 
where  John  had  dropped  it  in  his  semi-delirium. 

Wonderingly  she  stooped  and  picked  it  up, 
remembering  she  had  handed  John  some  such 
letter  the  night  before.  With  a  mother's  priv 
ilege  she  glanced  casually  at  its  message.  Her 
eye  was  caught  by  the  prominent  words  uNa- 
gurs"  and  "Parunts."  She  took  the  letter 
along  with  her  to  the  kitchen  and  called  to  her 
husband.  There  she  explained  to  him  how  she 
had  found  John  asleep  in  prayer  and  his  singu 
lar  reception  of  her,  and  held  out  the  letter 
to  him,  saying  she  was  suspicious  of  it.  He  re 
quested  her  to  read  it  aloud,  as  he  had  acciden 
tally  left  his  spectacles  at  the  shop  the  night 
before. 

As  she  read  to  him  the  last  three  lines  of 
the  poisonous  note,  a  great  rage  obsessed  him. 
He  tore  the  letter  from  her  hands,  and,  carry 
ing  it  to  the  kitchen  window,  read  it  himself, 
holding  it  up  close  to  his  near-sighted  eyes,  to 
make  sure  there  could  be  no  mistake  about  its 
purport.  His  clenched,  powerful  hands  rose 
above  his  head  as  he  gave  vent  to  his  terrible 
anger  with  fiercely  shaking  arms,  calling  down 


182  ERIC  MAROTTE 

such  anathemas  upon  the  head  of  the  writer 
of  the  letter  as  would  have  curdled  that  per 
son's  very  blood  to  hear  them.  He  glanced 
about  him  belligerently,  in  an  elemental,  Ethio 
pian  ferocity,  seeking  for  someone  to  destroy. 
He  turned  to  speak  to  his  wife — she  had  fainted. 

At  once  his  fury  left  him,  and  he  gathered 
her  up  like  an  infant  in  his  great,  leonine  grasp 
and  laid  her  on  their  bed.  He  got  water  and 
hartshorn  to  revive  her,  and  applied  these  re 
storatives,  trying  to  forget  his  own  eating  de 
spair  in  ministering  to  her  greater  misery. 

Suddenly  she  opened  her  eyes  and  attempted 
to  get  up.  He  forced  her  gently  back  upon 
the  pillow  and  pushed  the  door* to  with  a  back 
ward  thrust  of  his  foot,  lest  John  should  awake 
again  and  hear  them. 

Then  her  heart  broke  and,  throwing  her 
arms  about  his  neck,  she  cried  and  cried  and 
cried,  her  husband  mingling  his  own  tears  with 
hers  and  cursing  the  contemptible  interloper 
between  each  paroxysm  of  grief. 

But  even  grief  and  agony  cannot  last  for 
ever,  and  at  last  the  two  miserable  ones  could 
talk  together  calmly. 

"What  should  they  do  now!  Should  they 
deny  the  truth  of  the  letter's  statement?  Or 
should  they  risk  telling  John  the  whole  story? 
Would  he  forgive  them  at  this  late  hour  for 


THE  UNPARDONABLE  SIN  183 

their  loving  deception?  Would  he  still  love 
them?  Would  he,  even  involuntarily,  turn  from 
them  now  because  he  might  not  be  a  Negro, 
while  they,  themselves,  were  surely  black? " 

"How  could  they  meet  him  tranquilly?  What 
could  they  say  to  him?  If  they  did  not  tell 
him  the  truth  now,  would  he  not  curse  them  if 
he  found  it  out  later  by  himself?  Had  they  best 
return  the  letter  to  his  room,  and  let  him  ap 
proach  the  dread  subject  himself;  or  should 
they  make  a  quick,  clean  breast  of  it,  and  get  it 
over  with?" 

"Oh!  why,  of  all  things,  must  this  cross 
be  laid  upon  all  their  lives  just  as  John  was 
leaving  them  for  college?  Would  he  not  be 
come  estranged  from  them  now,  in  that  distant 
place  and  among  new  and  higher  associates  f " 

"Let  them  pray,  and  perhaps  the  good  God 
who  had  never  yet  deserted  them  in  their  times 
of  trial,  would  put  into  their  hearts  what  they 
must  do!" 

Eising  from  their  bended  knees  at  last,  with 
that  calmer  determination  that  comes  after 
prayer,  they  proceeded  arm-in-arm  to  John's 
door  and  opened  it  softly,  so  that,  unseen,  they 
might  feast  their  swimming  eyes  on  him  once 
more  before  the  awful  moment  when  they  must 
meet  him  face-to-face,  and  he  would  come  to 


184  ERIC  MAROTTE 

know  "the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and  nothing 
but  the  truth." 

For  God  had  told  them,  in  His  Own  myster 
ious  way,  to  tell  it  to  this,  their  beloved  son — 
had  told  them  in  His  language  of  the  soul,  that 
He  would  not  "let  this  bitter  cup  pass  from 
them." 

There  came  no  sound  from  John's  room. 
They  knocked  on  the  door  to  attract  his  atten 
tion,  grown  timid  and  deferential  now  in  their 
new  humility.  No  answer.  They  pushed  open 
the  door- wider  and  looked  in.  The  room  was 
vacant— He  was  gone. 

Breakfast  unthought  of,  they  distractedly 
made  ready  to  follow  him. 

' '  Where  ?  —  Anywhere  -  -  everywhere !  He 
must  not  be  allowed  to  go  away  alone  like  this ! 
What  desperate  thing  might  he  not  do  in  his 
present  mental  state!" 

They  hurried  about  the  "Island,"  asking 
those  whom  they  met  as  quietly  and  indiffer 
ently  as  they  could,  if  they  had  seen  John.  No 
one  had,  it  seemed.  Their  uneasiness  grew  more 
importunate,  and  they  had  about  determined  to 
notify  the  police  by  telephone,  when  Jemima 
happened  to  think  of  the  possibility  of  finding 
him  at  the  Hummelmuellers ;  and,  though  they 
felt  that  that  was  probably  the  last  place  John 


THE  UNPARDONABLE  SIN  185 

would  have  been  apt  to  go  in  Ms  desire  to  hide 
his  trouble,  they  ventured  there  as  a  final  resort. 

To  their  surprise,  Mrs.  Hummelmueller  was 
waiting  for  them  at  the  house  door. 

"Yes,"  she  replied  to  their  stammered  ques 
tion,  "John  is  here." 

After  Jemima  left  his  room,  John  had  ab 
ruptly  recollected  that  he  had  not  put  away 
or  secreted  the  fatal  letter,  and  he  got  up  to 
search  for  it.  He  could  find  it  nowhere.  He 
pondered  anew: 

"Here  was  a  new  complication!  Could 
Jemima  have  found  and  read  it?" 

He  listened  at  the  partition  and  heard  his 
foster-parents'  wild  lamentations.  He  shiv 
ered,  and  cried  out  under  his  breath: 

"0  God!  be  merciful!" 

"It  was  too  late!  They  must  have  seen  the 
letter,  and — yes — its  bold  insinuations  must  be 
true;  for  they  would  never  have  been  so  af 
fected  as  that  by  a  refutable  lie!" 

"Well,  then;  it  was  all  over!  What  next? 
Would  his  foster-parents  believe  he  could  be 
so  base,  so  ungrateful,  as  to  glory  in  the  faint 
chance  now  disclosed  to  him  of  proving  him 
self  not  a  Negro  while  remembering  still  that 
they  were  black?  Was  it  not  more  natural  to 
expect  that,  since  they  had  fathered  and  moth- 


186  ERIC  MAROTTE 

ered  him,  they  must  have  known  that  he,  too, 
was  a  Negro  I" 

"He  must  have  more  time  to  think  it  out. 
He  must  not  witness  their  agony  at  this  unex 
pected  denouement!  He  could  not  look  upon 
his  mother's  shame,  his  father's  humiliation !" 

"And,  again,  who,  now,  was  he,  himself! 
He  still  had  no  evidence  at  all  that  he  was  white. 
Why  not  more  reasonably  a  Negro  !  How  did  he 
come  to  be  there  in  the  first  place?" 

He  could  no  longer  control  either  his  mind 
or  his  body.  The  once-loved  room  became  un 
bearable  to  him — a  prison.  He  dressed  rapidly 
and  leaped  out  through  the  window.  But  out 
side  he  commenced  to  wonder  again,  doubt- 
ingly: 

"Where  now!  What  did  he  want  to  do! 
What  could  he  do!  Go  back  and  confront  his 
former  father  and  mother !  No ! ' ' 

"Ah;  he  had  it  now!  He  would  go  to 
Gretchen.  He  must  see  her  at  once,  and  tell  her 
all;  and  if  then  she  turned  from  him,  he  was 
lost,  lost,  lost! — And  then  to  the  river! 

His  mind  grew  numb;  a  vise  seemed  press 
ing  round  his  brain;  and  yet  his  mind  worked, 
spasmodically  and  beyond  any  governing  of  it 
by  his  conscious  will. 

"Well,  what  of  it  all!  It  would  soon  be 
all  over  with  him  now!  What  was  one  man 


THE  UNPARDONABLE  SIN  187 

more  or  less  in  the  great  world? — A  drop  of 
rain  in  the  sky — a  vigintillionth  of  an  iota  of 
the  great  scheme  of  the  universe !" 

"Bah!  it  was  easily  done — one  needn't  suffer 
much — a  look,  a  leap,  a  splash,  a  momentary, 
choking  spasm,  a  spreading,  circling,  ripple  on 
the  surface  of  the  water,  and — The  End!" 

"How  easy!  Why  had  he  not  thought  of 
it  before?  He  was  now  only  an  encumberer  of 
the  earth,  anyhow — an  ever-present  source  of 
pain  and  miserable  regrets  to  both  himself  and 
others. " 

"What  did  life  all  amount  to?  Just  a  strug 
gle  that  generally  ended  in  failure  and  dis 
ease!  " 

"Oh!  he  was  so  tired,  so  tired! — if  only  he 
could  rest — could  forget!" 

"But  Gretchen!  No,  he  could  not  go  with 
out  seeing  her  once  more.  Maybe  she  would, 
all-unsuspecting,  let  him  kiss  her  t  Good-bye/ 
She  would  not  know  it  was  to  be  his  last  '  Good 
bye'  forever.  God!  it  was  hard  to  leave  her!" 
Tears  came  to  his  dry,  burning  eyes. 

All  this  time  his  feet,  ignoring  the  ravings 
of  his  brain,  were  subconsciously,  but  steadily, 
carrying  him  onward  towards  Gretchen 's  home! 
He  looked  up  at  the  house,  amazed  to  find  him 
self  in  front  of  it. 

"How  came  he  there;  he  had  no  recollection 


188  ERIC  MAROTTE 

of  coming.  Was  he  mad?  Or  was  he  walking 
in  his  sleep! — When  would  he  wake  up?" 

Yet,  like  one  in  a  dream,  he  rang  the  door 
bell  without  hesitation.  His  actions,  his  words, 
were  all  instinctive.  His  faculties,  his  senses, 
seemed  to  be  performing  their  functions  re 
gardless  of  any  mental  or  muscular  volition 
upon  his  part.  He  did  not  know  till  after  each 
movement,  each  word,  was  already  made  or 
spoken,  that  they  had  happened.  He  simply 
found  himself  doing  and  saying  what  he  did 
and  said.  It  was  as  if  he  were  idly  contem 
plating  the  words  and  actions  of  another  being. 

It  was  still  only  seven  o'clock  in  the  morn 
ing,  and  Gretchen  had  not  yet  arisen.  Mrs. 
Hummelmueller  came  to  the  door  herself  (her 
husband  having  gone  early  to  the  brewery,  as 
was  his  wont),  and,  instantly  sensing  from  his 
vacant  "stare,"  his  unkempt  appearance,  his 
colorless  voice,  that  something  was  radically 
wrong  with  the  boy,  conducted  him  quietly  into 
the  library  without  betraying  to  him  her  own 
alarm. 

John  had  simply  said  to  her  in  a  dazed  sort 
of  way: 

"I  want  to  see  Gretchen;  where  is  she?  Tell 
her  I  must  see  her,  and  at  once." 

He  had  no  consciousness  of  the  unconven- 
tionality  of  the  early  hour — no  thought  for  any- 


THE  UNPARDONABLE  SIN  189 

thing  but  to  see  Gretchen.  It  was  now  his  one 
fixed,  clear  idea.  It  was  the  one  visible  goal 
his  blinded  spirit  could  perceive  ahead. 

Mrs.  Hummelmueller  left  him  and  hurriedly 
summoned  her  daughter,  warning  her  in  ad 
vance  to  be  courageous,  to  be  cool  and  collected, 
as  she  feared  that  John  was  under  the  influence 
of  some  temporary  aberration. 

Gretchen  deftly  slipped  on  a  blue  silk  Jap 
anese  kimono  and  her  slippers,  and,  without 
waiting  to  "put  up"  her  hair,  ran  down  the 
wide  stairway.  At  the  library  door  she  paused 
for  a  second  to  observe  John.  He  was  seated  in 
an  arm-chair,  his  elbows  on  his  knees,  his  face 
in  his  hands,  the  picture  of  mental  degradation. 
He  heard  her  and  looked  up  slowly,  with  a  hag 
gard,  hunted,  cringing  face  and  glance. 

In  that  instant  Gretchen  changed  from  a 
girl  to  a  woman.  She  had  been  brought  ab 
ruptly  to  the  parting  of  the  ways  twixt  youth 
and  womanhood.  Although  her  heart  bled  for 
her  lover,  even  without  knowing  what  had  be 
fallen  him,  she  was  not  afraid.  The  bravery  of 
motherhood  was  come  upon  her. 

Her  face  was  calm,  even  majestic.  She  came 
slowly  towards  him  in  her  loose  draperies,  her 
gorgeous,  sun-lit  hair  falling  all  about  her  brow 
— like  a  blue  and  gold  angel  in  a  vision. 

John  watched  her  in  a  stupefied  inaction,  a 


190  ERIC  MARGATE' 

great,  holy  wonder  in  his  blood-shot  eyes.  She 
spoke  no  word,  but  passed  one  soft  hand  en 
dearingly  through  his  unbrushed  locks,  and 
taking  a  hand  of  his  in  her  other  one,  led  him 
a  captive  to  the  leather  library  lounge,  and 
made  him  lie  down  upon  it. 

She  brought  a  light  chair,  and  seated  her 
self  beside  him,  taking  his  hand  in  hers  again 
and  gently  stroking  it.  He  seemed  stricken 
dumb,  waiting  patiently  for  her  to  speak — just 
as  a  "true  believer"  might  have  awaited  the 
prophetic  utterance  of  some  worshipped  oracle 
in  the  days  of  old. 

At  last  she  asked  him  in  a  low,  consoling 
tone :  '  '  What  is  it,  John,  dear  ? ' ' 

He  drew  his  hand  away  from  hers,  and  hid 
ing  his  shamed  face  in  both  his  palms,  gasped 
out  between  them  in  the  strained  voice  of  one 
utterly  broken  in  spirit:  "Oh!  Gretchen!  I've 
lost  my  father  and  mother!" 

The  girl's  face  blanched;  her  form  grew 
rigid,  then  relapsed.  This  was  terrible!  fright 
ful!  She  was  not  prepared  for  such  a  blow. 
She  had  expected  trouble,  but  not  death!  It 
stunned  her.  She  strove  for  delicately  tactful 
words  in  which  to  question  him  further. 

"Are  they  then,  dead?"  she  faltered. 

John  sat  up-right  quickly. 


THE  UNPARDONABLE  SIN  191 

"Dead!  Dead!  Oh,  no;  they're  not  dead. 
Who  said  they  were  dead?" 

Gretchen  gave  a  great  gasp  of  gratitude. 
Her  heart,  which  had  almost  ceased  to  beat,  now 
began  to  pump  furiously.  "Why,  John;  you 
just  now  said  you  had  lost  them." 

"Yes;  I've  lost  them;  but  in  life,  not  death!" 

"Tell  me  all  about  it,  dearest,"  she  coaxed. 

And  John  did.  His  wandering  senses  re 
turned  to  him  at  this  wonderful  girl's  wooing 
command,  and  he  told  her  all. 

A  tremendous  sigh  of  relief  welled  up  from 
Gretchen 's  tender  heart  as  she  divined  the  real 
situation.  She  cried  a  little,  but  smiled  at  him 
through  her  tears — as  beautiful  as  a  "  sunshine- 
shower.  ' ' 

When  he  had  finished,  she  sat  down  along 
side  him  on  the  big  lounge  and  put  her  half -bare 
arms  around  him,  laying  her  warm,  rosy  face 
against  his.  He  knew  then  that  all  his  fears 
of  her  forsaking  him  in  his  sorrow  and  shame 
were  groundless — ephemeral  things  blown  away 
forever  upon  the  breath  of  her  undying  love  for 
him. 

He  raised  her  farther  arm,  and  taking  its 
tapering  wrist  in  one  hand,  he  drew  the  back 
of  her  own  slowly  to  his  lips  and  kissed  it 
lingeringly,  his  other  palm  supporting  hers; 
her  other  arm  about  his  neck.  His  eyes  were 


192  ERIC  MAROTTE 

lowered  before  her  in  reverent  adoration.  She 
looked  away  across  the  room  towards  the  great 
white  light  of  morning  streaming  in  at  the  win 
dow;  and  upon  her  face  was  that  dreaming  glory 
of  perfect  peace  and  love  which  passeth  under 
standing. 

"What  shall  I  do,  Gretchen,  love?"  timidly 
he  asked  at  length. 

"Go  and  tell  your  foster-parents  that  you 
'  know  all, '  and  that  it  will  make  not  the  slight 
est  difference  between  you;  that  you  but  love 
them  all  the  more  now  that  you  have  found  out 
and  can  realize  their  true  nobility — You  do,  do 
you  not?" 

"I  do!  But  what  will  all  the  people  around 
here  think  of  me  when  they  learn  of  this  thing?" 

Gretchen  smiled  adorably. 

"You  need  not  worry  your  head  about  that, 
dear  heart;  everyone  on  the  t Island/  has  al 
ready  known  it  for  years;  that  is,  everybody 
but  you;  but  they  were,  every  one  of  them,  too 
generous,  too  kind,  too  fond  of  you  for  your 
own  self,  ever  to  tell  you  of  it.  They  are  your 
friends,  John — never  fear." 

And  thereupon  John  gained  the  strange  ex 
perience  of  hearing  from  his  own  lover's  sweet 
lips  his  first  account  of  the  memorable,  but  still 
unexplained,  incident  of  his  unheralded  coming 
to  the  Mannings  on  that  Christmas  Eve  of  long 


AND    UPON     HER     FACE    WAS    THAT    DREAMING    GLORY    OF    PERFECT 
PEACE    AND    LOVE    THAT    PASSETH     UNDERSTANDING" 


THE   UNPARDONABLE  SIN  193 

ago.    In  a  way,  she  had  known  more  about  him, 
than  he  had  known  about  himself. 

Just  as  Gretchen  completed  the  story,  Mrs. 
Hummelmueller  announced  Jim  and  Jemima, 
and  ushered  them  at  once  into  the  library. 

John  sprang  up,  Gretchen  following  him. 
His  foster-parents  stood  close  together  before 
him,  with  downcast,  appealing  eyes,  just  like 
two  naughty  children  caught  in  some  mischief 
and  waiting  their  merited  reprimand  or  pun 
ishment.  Jemima  lifted  up  her  face;  her  eyes 
were  horror-haunted;  her  husband  groaned 
aloud. 

For  one  breathless  moment  all  the  dramatis 
personae  of  the  pathetic  scene  stood  pale  and 
motionless  as  marble  statues. 

Then  John  stepped  forward  quietly,  his  face 
working  with  suppressed  emotions ;  and  placing 
an  arm  about  the  neck  of  each  of  his  foster- 
parents,  kissed  them  both  upon  the  mouth,  say 
ing  simply,  but  with  an  unmistakable  sincerity: 
"Mother!  Father!  I  love  you!" 


CHAPTER  XII. 

'ABSENCE  MAKES  THE  HEART  GROW  FONDER' 


]LD  Doctor  Time  came  round  every 
day  withhis  big,  slow  internes,  the 
Hours  and  his  nimble  little  nurses, 
the  Minutes,  and,  before  long,  all 
lof  the  little  family  at  the  cottage 
were  mentally  convalescent,  their  hearts  all  the 
stronger  and  more  loving  for  the  crisis  through 
which  they  had  just  passed,  to  come  forth  so 
purified  and  true. 

Autumn  rolled  around  at  last,  and  with  it 
came  the  hour  of  John's  departure  for  New 
Haven,  a  great  event  to  more  than  himself  alone. 
Many  of  his  old  schoolmates  and  neighbors 
gathered  at  the  depot,  bringing  flowers  and  lit 
tle  parting  gifts  for  him,  and  poor  John 's  heart 
was  very  full. 

His  foster-parents  and  the  Hummelmuellers 
followed  him  into  the  sleeping-car  with  many 
final,  fond  adjurations,  and  sat  beside  him  until 
the  conductor's  call  of  "All  Aboard!"  cut  short 
their  last  farewells.  Gretchen  passed  out  of  the 
car  the  last  of  all,  John  accompanying  her  to 
the  vestibule.  For  a  moment  the  two  were  alone 
together;  then — what  Gretchen  did  there  will 

194 


ABSENCE  195 

never  be  told,  but  should  John  live  a  thousand 
years  he  never  could  forget  it. 

The  train  sped  on  with  its  customary  burden 
of  human  hearts.  Grief,  penury,  despair  and 
woe — joy,  affluence,  hope  and  happiness, 
knocked  elbows  with  vice  and  virtue,  with  cu 
riosity  and  apathy,  wisdom  and  ignorance,  phil 
anthropy  and  cupidity — a  little  world  on 
wheels.  In  due  time  and  without  mishap  the 
train  arrived  at  its  New  York  destination,  and 
John  had  his  baggage  transferred  across  that 
city  to  the  New  York,  New  Haven  and  Hartford 
Railway  station,  where  he  entrained  again  for 
the  second  stage  of  his  journey,  and  finally  set 
foot  upon  the  li sacred"  collegiate  soil  of  old 
New  Haven,  The  Mecca  of  so  many  aspiring, 
beardless  youths  before  him. 

He  gazed  about  him  with  a  hesitant  but  lively 
expectancy,  having  made  friends  with  no  other 
prospective  or  already-matriculated  Yale  men 
on  the  train,  although  there  were  a  number  of 
fellows  on  board  who  looked  the  part.  But  he 
could  discover  nothing  particularly  suggestive 
of  the  college  life  or  spirit  until  after  he  had 
registered  at  the  New  Haven  House,  which,  be 
ing  the  leading  hotel  at  that  time,  was  crowded 
to  the  roof  with  students  and  their  parents, 
' l  their  sisters,  their  cousins  and  their  aunts. ' ' 

When  he  had  secured  a  place  there  to  sleep 


196  ERIC  MAROTTE 

for  the  night  and  had  dined,  he  sauntered  out 
alone,  up  past  the  old  Campus,  with  its  enor 
mous,  ancient  elms  and  its  rail  fence  enclosing, 
together  with  more  modern  buildings,  the 
Chapel,  Old  South  Middle  and  other  dilapidated 
dormitories  and  rookeries  that  dated  back  al 
most  beyond  the  ken  of  man. 

It  was  evening;  the  moon  shone  down  in 
dreamy  splendor  on  the  dew-starred  grass,  the 
worn  brick  walks,  the  rustling,  glinting  leaves 
and  the  quaint  old  New  England  architecture  of 
the  town. 

The  top  rails  of  the  old,  time-honored  fence 
were  black  with  squatting  figures,  some,  pipe-in- 
mouth,  wafting  up  the  incense  of  slow-curling 
wreaths  of  aromatic  smoke  which  faded  like 
gossamery  cobwebs  into  the  still,  pale  air,  and 
all  with  both  hands  in  their  pockets. 

As  he  stood  wavering  and  enchanted  at  the 
corner  of  classic  Elm  and  Church  streets,  drink 
ing  in  with  quivering  nostrils  and  dilating  eyes 
the  soul-inspiring  spirit  of  the  college  scene, 
there  rose  upon  the  crisp,  clear  autumn  evening 
air,  apparently  without  premeditation,  yet  sim 
ultaneously  from  every  throat  upon  the  entire 
top  line  of  the  fence,  the  peacefully  opening  bars 
of  that  never-to-be-forgotten  Yale  song, 
"I-EEL."  As  each  succeeding  stanza  of  the 
venerable  song  was  reached,  it  was  taken  up  by 


ABSENCE  197 

the  particular  class  to  which  it  referred,  and 
the  song  was  continued  with  increasing  speed 
and  gusto,  all  the  classes  joining  in  vociferously 
on  the  chorus. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  final  stanzas  the 
light,  joyous  air  was  suddenly  changed  to  a 
slow,  deep  and  measured  dirge;  and  the  rich, 
mellow  voices  of  the  seniors,  who  lead  it,  lin 
gered  over  each  word  and  note  with  such  strange 
touch  of  infinite  sorrow  and  last  adieus,  that  an 
irresistible  thrill  tingled  along  John's  nerves 
and  spinal  column  and  brought  his  heart  to  his 
throat,  and  wrapped  the  moon  for  him  in  an 
irised  mist  of  tears.  As  the  last  note  of  the 
faltering,  funereal  chorus  died  away  in  soul- 
stricken  grief,  the  whole  crowd  abruptly  began 
the  chorus  all  over  again,  and  rattled  through 
it  in  quick,  staccato  shouts,  fortissimo,  and  with 
ever-accelerated  time,  till  its  last  note  ended 
in  a  short-drawn  howl,  to  be  followed  by  that 
modernized,  nerve-tearing,  ear-splitting,  Indian 
warwhoop,  the  Yale  yell. 
I-EEL.* 

As  Freshmen,  first  we  come  to  Yale; 

Fol  de  rol  de  rol  rol  rol, 
Examinations  make  us  pale, 

Fol  de  rol  de  rol  rol  rol. 

CHOBUS: 
Presto    Eel-i-eeM-eel-i-Yale, 

Fol  de  rol  de  rol  rol  rol, 
Eel-i-eeM-eel-i-Yale, 
Fol  de  rol  de  rol  rol  rol. 


198  ERIC  MAROTTE 

As  Sophomores  we  have  our  task; 

Fol  de  rol  de  rol  rol  rol, 
'Tis  best  performed  with  torch  and  mask, 

Fol  de  rol  de  rol  rol  rol. — Chorus. 

In  Junior  year  we  take  our  ease, 

Fol  de  rol  de  rol  rol  rol, 
We  smoke  our  pipes  and  sing  our  glees, 

Fol  de  rol  de  rol  rol  rol. — Chorus. 

In  Senior  year  we  act  our  parts, 

Fol  de  rol  de  rol  rol  rol, 
In  making  love,  and  winning  hearts, 

Fol  de  rol  de  rol  rol  rol. — Chorus. 

And  then  into  the  world  we  come; 

Fol  de  rol  de  rol  rol  rol, 
We've  made  good  friends  and  studied — some, 

Fol  de  rol  de  rol  rol  rol. — Chorus. 

Adagio   The  saddest  tale  we  have  to  tell, 

Fol  de  rol  de  rol  rol  rol, 
Is  when  we  bid  our  friends  farewell, 
Fol  de  rol  de  rol  rol  rol. — Chorus. 

A  tempo  And  till  the  sun  and  moon  shall  pale, 

Fol  de  rol  de  rol  rol  rol, 
We'll  love  and  reverence  Mother  Yale, 
Fol  de  rol  de  rol  rol  rol. — Chorus. 

Chorus  repeated,   accelerando  and  fortissimo. 

*EEL-i-Yale:  in  honor  of  Elihu,  or  "Eli"  Yale,  the  patron 
of  Yale  College. 

The  effect  produced  on  the  listener  by  this 
"glee"  is  more  easily  felt  than  described;  and 
on  John's  tender,  lonely  heart  its  cadences  fell 
like  a  balm,  filling  it  to  overflowing  with  soar 
ing  hope  and  ambition  and  hearty  camaraderie. 

At  the  time  John  entered  the  university  life 
of  Yale  there  were  far  fewer  dormitories,  living 
halls  and  apartments  provided  for  the  accommo 
dation  of  her  students  than  at  present,  and 


ABSENCE  199 

most  of  the  freshmen  were  compelled  to  rustle 
around  for  individual  rooms  and  eating  places 
among  the  close-by  boarding  houses  and  the 
many  old  dwellings  of  moderate  pretensions  in 
which  more  or  less  senile  landladies  and  finan 
cially  embarrassed  local  families  furnished  un 
sophisticated  college  youths  with  some  of  the 
comforts,  but  none  of  the  luxuries,  of  a  home. 

Some  practical  joker  in  a  group  of  sopho 
mores  to  whom  John  innocently  applied  for  in 
formation  on  the  subject  the  following  morning, 
maliciously  directed  him  to  one  of  the  worst- 
conducted  and  most  dilapidated  of  New  Haven's 
notoriously  rotten  students '  boarding  houses. 

The  same  deplorable  condition  of  affairs  in 
this  respect  confronts  the  Yale  freshmen  to-day, 
there  being  scarcely  a  decent,  modern  rooming- 
house  or  apartment  building,  aside  from  those 
attached  to  the  university  itself,  for  blocks 
around  the  Campus  and  main  buildings  of  the 
school.  The  old  worm-eaten  shacks  that  look 
as  if  they  were  erected  when  the  first  elms  were 
planted  about  the  Campus,  have  proved  too 
profitable  to  their  get-rich-quick  owners  and 
tenants  to  be  removed  or  improved;  and  New 
Haven  being  peculiarly  a  city  content  to  live 
upon  the  necessities  of  the  "stoodints,"  as  it 
has  done  for  some  hundreds  of  years,  with  all 
the  crustiness  and  cupidity  of  age, — its  only 


200  ERIC  MAROTTE 

prey  the  fresh  young  '  '  outlanders "  who  fall 
temporarily  within  its  clutches,  it  has  become 
chronically  case-hardened,  and,  like  the  fly  that 
lit  on  the  grocery-man's  ham,  "it  doesn't  give 
a  damn. " 

John  interviewed  the  unkempt  Goddess  of 
Plenty  who  presided  over  the  corporeal  well- 
being  of  the  embryonic  statesmen  and  chrysalis 
captains  of  industry  at  the  address  on  Church 
street  given  him  by  the  smug  wag;  and,  though 
the  outside  appearance  of  the  place  was  unin 
viting  enough  and  its  presiding  genius  still  less 
so,  he  "fell  for"  her  assertion  that  all  the  stu 
dents  just  doted  on  getting  into  as  old  and  his 
toric  quarters  as  they  could,  even  paying  a  pre 
mium  for  extra  barrenness;  and  agreed  with 
her  on  a  weekly  tariff. 

That  night  he  moved  in  his  belongings  and 
ate  his  first  meal  there.  The  meal  was  simply 
atrocious,  the  dining-room  and  kitchen  an  im 
provised  shambles  and  his  bedroom — Demosthe 
nes,  with  all  his  eloquence,  could  not  have  done 
it  descriptive  justice !  Nor  could  he  have  found 
words  to  portray  the  luridity  of  the  impression 
it  made  upon  the  sensitive  boy,  fresh  from  home 
and  mother's  cleanly  ways. 

A  pewter  bowl  and  ewer,  gracing  jauntily  a 
rickety  washstand  with  two  lean  arms  that 
seemed  perpetually  raised  in  self-defence 


ABSENCE  201 

against  expected  blows;  a  cracked  but  highly 
decorated  slop-jar  with  a  hand-worked,  striped 
worsted  "tidy"  sporting  a  tassel  in  the  centre, 
drawn  carefully  over  its  cover;  a  Boston  rocker 
with  both  heels  broken  off  at  the  front  legs  and 
streaked  with  ink  and  half  bare  of  paint;  a  bed 
stead  like  a  horse-stall,  filled  with  a  husk  mat 
tress  well  lumped  to  fit  the  shape  of  the  room's 
last  incumbent;  torn  linen  the  color  of  a  gray 
cloud;  one  pillow  redolent  of  the  hen-yard;  a 
three-legged  table  (by  grace  of  the  imagination 
a  tripod) ;  a  German-plate  mirror  (called  a  look 
ing  glass)  with  more  angles  of  refraction  than 
one  dim  gas  jet  could  handle  at  one  time;  a 
bureau  sans  mirror,  sans  nobs,  sans  varnish, 
sans  cleanliness,  sans  everything:  and,  to  sur 
mount  all,  a  floor  ' i  covering ' '  of  faded  oil-cloth, 
devoid  of  its  original  design  except  under  the 
bureau.  This  latter  "  objet  de  virtu"  was  itself 
covered  in  turn,  in  ostensible  carelessly-artistic 
arrangements,  by  narrow  strips  of  threadbare, 
borderless  carpet  of  various  vintages.  On  cu 
rious  after-investigation,  he  found  these  unge- 
ometrieally-distributed  "rugs"  to  have  been 
placed  over  an  equal  number  of  holes  in  the  un 
derlying  oil-cloth,  to  add  to  the  tout  ensemble  of 
this  egregious  hole-in-the-wall  which  the  affable 
landlady  designated  as  "his  little  boudoir." 
The  walls  had  been  possible  masterpieces  of 


202  ERIC  MAROTTB 

rural  mural  magnificence  in  their  time,  but  the 
" flight  of  the  ages"  had  sobered  them  into  one 
prevalent  hue  of  dismalness.  The  ceiling  gaped 
in  irregular  cracks  from  which  the  boarding- 
house  " menagerie"  made  occasional  sortees  and 
reconnaissances  to  view  the  new  tenant  and  al 
low  their  pampered  proboscises  to  " water"  over 
their  approaching  feast;  for  in  this  "home"  the 
bugs,  at  least,  fared  well.  One  could  almost 
imagine  that,  with  the  aid  of  one  of  the  power 
ful  sound-multipliers  of  the  college's  physical 
laboratory,  he  could  hear  them  declaiming  that 
ferocious  quatrain: 

"Pee,  fie,  fo,  fum! 

I  smell  the  blood  of  an  Englishmun; 
Dead  or  alive,  I  will  have  some! 
Fee,  fie,  fo,  fum!" 

Afraid  to  trust  to  either  the  purity  or  the 
stability  of  his  ' '  royal  couch, ' '  John  dallied  long 
and  gingerly  over  his  disrobing,  taking  a  towel, 
wet  on  one  end  (fortunately  there  were  two  of 
them  in  sight,  as  the  season  was  yet  young)  to 
the  bedside  with  him,  with  which  to  cleanse 
the  "souls"  of  his  feet  after  crossing  the  room. 
Then  he  held  his  breath  and  took  the  dreadful 
plunge  into  that  "Rocky  Eoad  to  Dublin. ' '  With 
the  light  out  and  the  late  moon  peering  in  trans- 
lucently  through  the  single  dirty,  sinall-paned, 
diminutive  window  of  the  room,  the  aspect  of 
his  surroundings  lost  a  part  of  its  horrors  for 


ABSENCE  203 

him,  and  throwing  off  by  a  mighty  mental  effort 
the  fit  of  "the  blues "  it  gave  him,  he  com 
mended  his  soul  to  God  and  his  landlady-witch 
to  the  devil  and  slept,  "though  angels  wept." 
(0  youth  and  hope!  from  what  despond  doth 
Morpheus  preserve  you!) 

Morning  dawned  on  all  the  hideousness  of 
John's  curiosity-shop  of  a  bedroom;  and  getting 
up  stiffly,  rubbing  the  sore  spots  on  his  anatomy 
where  he  had  "bumped  the  bumps "  on  his  " im 
pressing  "  mattress,  he  dressed  and  descended 
to  the  regular  New  Haven  "stoodints"  board 
ing-house  breakfast. 

Here  he  met  with  another  jolting  surprise — 
Eggs  a  la  Home  for  the  Aged  Poor ;  Coffee  a  la 
Big  Muddy  River;  Butter  en  Greece;  two  one- 
by-three-by-a-half-inch  strips  of  Beefsteak  de 
Horse;  Potatoes,  Naturally-Bad;  Syrup  alias 
Molasses;  Oatmeal  a  la  Oliver  Twist;  Milk  a 
la  Town  Pump;  Corn-bread  au  Pellegra — 
Shades  of  Epicurus !  on  what  luxurious  pabulum 
doth  the  " business-woman "  feed  other  women's 
sons! 

John  shut  his  eyes  and  bolted  his  portion 
of  the  matutinal  banquet;  and,  having  foolishly 
paid  his  board  for  a  week  in  advance,  felt  con 
strained  to  put  up  with  all  this  bodily  insult 
till  the  expiration  of  that  period. 

But  that  night  he  walked  the  silent  streets 


ERIC  MAROTTE 

envying  the  dwellers  in  each  house  he  passed 
in  whose  windows  a  cheerful,  home-like  light 
was  burning,  and  felt  that  every  one  had  a 
home  and  love  and  decency,  except  himself. 
Over  him  came  the  terror-inspiring  conscious 
ness  that  he  was  now  an  Ishmael — a  pariah, 
that  he  was  not  as  other  men. 

He  walked  for  hours,  but  could  not  shake 
off  the  overpowering  melancholy  of  his  thoughts 
and  feelings;  then  sought  again  his  nightmare 
of  a  room,  and  falling  on  his  knees  by  the  bed, 
gave  himself  up  to  all  the  agony  and  longing 
and  silent  supplications  of  violent  nostalgia,  that 
affection  of  the  mind  and  heart  which,  like  love, 
seems  so  humorously  imaginary  in  others  and 
so  excruciatingly  real  in  ourselves. 

In  the  language  of  Henryk  Sienkiewicz,  "In 
moments  like  these  the  soul  gets  wings ;  what  it 
has  to  remember  it  remembers;  what  it  loves 
it  loves  still  more  warmly;  what  it  longs  for, 
there  it  flies. ' ' 

Sick  at  heart,  he  haunted  for  days  the  uni 
versity  's  reading  rooms,  devouring  every  line  of 
the  current  Chicago  papers  in  his  desperate 
clinging  to  their  home  ties. 

One  day  before  his  week  was  up  at  that 
"Hotel  Horrific/'  he  moved  to  better  quarters 
further  out,  on  York  street;  and  in  time  his 
home-sickness  disappeared  and  was  lost  in  the 


ABSENCE  205 

multiplicity  of  his  new  university  and  class  in 
terests.  He  joined  the  " Alpha  Chi"  society, 
participated  in  the  "cane-rush"  and  other  boist 
erous  exuberances  of  collegiate  life,  including 
getting  properly  hazed  and  stealing  a  good- 
sized  sign-board  with  which  to  decorate  his 
"den,"  and  gradually  became  part  and  parcel  of 
the  college  spirit,  with  its  athletic,  scholastic,  so 
cial  and  political  evolutions  and  emulations,  its 
joys  and  sorrows,  its  triumphs  and  disappoint 
ments.  He  was  a  full-fledged  collegian  at  last. 

Four  years  he  laboriously  climbed  the  tree 
of  universal  learning,  high  and  wide  as  the  im 
memorial  elms  upon  the  Campus,  that  trace  the 
long  generations  of  that  ancient  seat  of  erudi 
tion  in  the  rings  of  their  mighty  trunks;  till 
eventually  came  that  great  day  and  week,  the 
Last  Commencement  for  him — the  end  of  the 
school,  but  the  beginning  of  the  life  of  the 
world ;  the  great  transition  from  theory  to  prac 
tice,  when  the  much-lauded  graduate  with  his 
talismanic  sheep-skin  hugged  fondly  and  proud 
ly  to  his  manly  bosom,  goeth  forth,  a  tiny,  tink 
ling  deity  astride  a  hobby  on  rollers ;  one  hand 
raised  loftily  before  him  and  stabbing  the  em 
pyrean  with  the  sword  of  progress,  insurgency, 
enlightenment  and  glory;  the  other  hand  drag 
ging  behind  him  by  the  tail  the  poor,  old,  be 
nighted  world,  all  upside  down  and  kicking. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

ENTRE  NOUS 

was  six  o  'clock,  P.  M.,  on  the  four 
teenth  day  of  June,  189 — .  The  man 
ager  of  the  Windsor  Hotel  in  Mon 
treal,  Canada,  had  just  descended 
in  the  "lift"  from  his  luxurious  private  apart 
ments,  and  was  strutting  across  the  hotel  lobby 
in  his  full-dress  suit,  his  expansive  shirt  front 
emblazoned  with  three  very  large  solitaire  dia 
mond  studs — watching  out  of  the  corners  of  his 
eyes  for  those  who  might  be  duly  impressed  by 
his  grandiose  appearance. 

As  he  paraded  along  he  sized  up  in  his 
mind's  eye,  the  women  among  his  guests  who 
might  prove  susceptible  to  his  charms  and  the 
men  whom  he  could  likely  flatter  into  a  profit 
able  (to  the  house)  vanity  of  expenditure.  He 
was  the  head  peacock  of  this  " Peacock 's  Alley" 
of  Canada,  catering  to  and  pampering  the  Can 
adian  and  American  bon  ton. 

The  spacious  rotunda  was  filled  with  resi 
dent  guests  in  semi-full  dress,  interspersed  with 
new  arrivals  and  late  departures. 

Over  in  one  corner,  partly  concealed  behind 
a  real  palm  shrub  of  generous  height,  sat  a 

206 


ENTRE  NOUS  207 

lady  and  gentleman  of  quiet  mien  and  appareled 
in  good  taste.  The  man  was  of  medium  stature 
but  rugged  and  wiry-looking,  with  the  tan  of 
the  wild  on  face  and  hands.  The  woman  was 
taller  and  a  pronounced  blonde,  with  clear  skin 
and  a  Scandinavian  cast  of  features.  She  was 
exceedingly  attractive  and  intelligent  in  appear 
ance.  Evidently  husband  and  wife,  they  were 
conversing  together  in  low  tones,  oblivious  of 
the  passing  sensation  caused  by  the  theatrical, 
pouter-pigeon  entree  of  the  self -centered  hotel 
manager.  The  man  spoke  with  a  decided 
French-Canadian  accent,  but  the  woman's  Eng 
lish  was  beyond  criticism.  A  rather  oddly  as 
sorted  pair,  to  look  at  them  casually,  they  yet 
seemed  perfectly  congenial  in  their  relations  to 
each  other,  as  though  time  and  long  endurance 
together  had  wrought  between  them  a  loving 
understanding. 

"Well,  then,  it  is  settled, "  spoke  the  man; 
'  '  and  now  let  us  go  in  to  dinner. ' ' 

"But,  remember — afterwards";  and  the 
woman  rose  from  her  seat  in  reply. 

They  passed  on  into  the  " Salle  a  Manger," 
as  it  was  ground  in  great  letters  in  the  glass 
fan-light  over  the  dining-room 's  double  door. 
The  mditre  d'  hotel  conducted  them,  with  many 
flourishes  of  his  hands  and  obsequious  salaams, 
to  the  special  two-chair  table  always  reserved 


208  ERIC  MAROTTE 

for  them,  and  left  them  to  the  tender  mercies 
of  the  liveried  side-waiter,  whose  solicitous  def 
erence  proclaimed  his  respect  for  them  as  good 
<  'tippers." 

The  great  room  rapidly  filled  as  they  ate 
leisurely  from  course  to  course,  languidly  ob 
serving  each  new-comer;  while  the  band  played 
on  and  the  cut  flowers  in  the  tall  vases  on  the 
dining  tables  lent  their  fragrance  to  the  bril 
liant  scene. 

Suddenly  the  woman  motioned  slightly  and 
to  the  right,  calling  her  companion's  attention 
to  a  party  of  two,  probably  mother  and  daugh 
ter,  who  had  just  been  seated  across  the  floor 
from  them.  The  man  turned  slowly,  and  in 
offensively  took  them  in. 

"What  hair!  What  a  face!"  he  exclaimed 
softly;  "Americans,  I  fancy." 

"We  must  know  them!"  replied  the  wom 
an.  ' t  They  seem  to  be  unattended  and  unknown 
here.  There  is  something  about  that  young 
girl  that  affects  me  clairvoyantly — as  though 
the  lines  of  our  lives  have  crossed  before  and 
will  cross  again  with  some  tremendous  conse 
quence  to  us  both.  My  heart  beats  so  at  sight 
of  her,  it  frightens  me!  It's  not  alone  her  beauty 
that  fascinates  me — it's  something  else  that  I 
do  not  understand." 

"I  too  am  unaccountably  impressed.    Let's 


ENTRE  NOUS  209 

leave  the  dining  room  before  them  and  ask  at 
the  office  who  they  are." 

Fifteen  minutes  later  they  were  in  posses 
sion  of  all  the  information  at  the  clerk's  dis 
posal,  viz:  Mrs.  and  Miss  Gretchen  Hummel- 
mueller,  registered  from  Chicago,  Illinois; 
rooms  engaged  ahead  by  wire  for  a  two-day s' 
stop  over  on  their  way  to  Quebec. 

Seating  themselves  where  they  commanded 
an  unobstructed  view  of  the  entire  rotunda,  the 
couple  watched  and  waited  for  the  reappear 
ance  of  the  two  Americans  when  they  should 
have  finished  dinner. 

Presently  the  latter  came  out,  and  after  visit 
ing  the  various  curio  stands  and  little  shops 
of  the  hotel  adjoining  the  lobby  and  taking  sev 
eral  turns  about  the  spacious  place,  settled 
down  on  a  settee  not  far  from  the  Canadians, 
to  enjoy  the  life  and  novelty  of  the  situation 
at  their  ease.  They  were  shortly  espied  by  the 
grandiloquent  manager,  who  approached  and 
asked  after  their  convenience  and  comfort.  He 
gradually  engaged  them  in  the  recounting  of 
their  experiences  on  their  trip  there  from  Chi 
cago,  via  the  Great  Lakes  and  the  St.  Law 
rence  River,  with  its  Thousand  Islands,  and  the 
" shooting"  of  the  Lachine  Eapids  by  their 
steamer;  expatiating  in  his  turn  upon  the  fur 
ther  beauties  of  that  majestic  river  as  it  flowed 


210  ERIC  MAROTTE 

northward,  past  quaint  old  Quebec,  with  its 
upper  and  lower  towns  and  ancient  fortress, 
to  its  broad,  ice-bound  mouth.  He  begged  them 
particularly  not  to  omit  the  wonderful  side-trip 
up  the  Saguenay  Eiver,  that  tributary  whose 
sublime  and  awe-inspiring  cliffs  rival  in  magni 
ficence,  solemnity  and  wild  grandeur  the  Falls 
of  Niagara. 

Then  speaking  of  the  Canadian  Northwest, 
with  its  boundless  forests  and  fertile  rolling 
plains,  its  picturesque  mountain  scenery  and 
undeveloped  riches,  his  wandering  eye  fell  upon 
the  French-Canadian  and  his  wife,  and  he  said: 

"Ladies,  let  me  introduce  to  you  one  of  our 
most  successful  frontiers-lumber-men,  who  has 
just  retired  to  Montreal  with  a  large  fortune 
honestly  won  from  that  erstwhile  inhospitable 
wilderness.  I  assure  you,  you  will  enjoy  his 
graphic  account  of  the  trials,  hardships  and 
adventures  he  and  his  noble  wife  went  through 
there.  And  his  descriptions,  at  first  hand,  of 
these  then  almost  unknown  regions  will  please 
you  more  than  those  in  any  book  you  ever 
read.  They  are  now  the  social  "  lions "  of  Mon 
treal  and  you  should  meet  them,  by  all  means- 
Permit  me." 

And  on  their  acquiescence,  he  called  a  ' i  bell 
hop"  and  ordered  him  to  fetch  two  chairs.  Go 
ing  up  to  the  other  couple,  he  invited  them  to 


ENTRE  NOUS  211 

meet  the  Chicago  ladies,  "in  whom  he  felt 
sure/'  he  said,  "they  would  become  highly  in 
terested.  ' ' 

The  Canadians  had  been  furtively  observing 
the  little  group  all  this  time,  and  arose  with 
alacrity  to  accompany  him  to  them. 

"Mrs.  and  Miss  Hummelmueller,  this  is  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Marotte.  I  have  explained  to  them 
that  you  are  traveling  alone  and  are  strangers 
here;  and  they,  I  am  persuaded,  will  have  great 
pleasure  in  telling  you  everything  of  real  inter 
est  about  our  city  and  province  and  of  their 
long  sojourn  in  Middle  and  Western  Canada. — 
If  you  will  excuse  me  now,  I  have  not  yet 
dined."  And  with  his  most  imposing  bow  he 
left  them  to  improve  their  mutual  acquaintance. 

"Mrs.  Hummelmueller,"  began  Mrs.  Ma 
rotte,  "I  am  glad  indeed  to  know  you,  and  I 
will  do  my  best  to  make  your  stay  with  us  an 
interesting  and  enjoyable  one.  To  tell  you  the 
truth,  both  my  husband  and  myself  have  al 
ready  been  greatly  attracted  by  your  beautiful 
daughter,  and  had  hoped  for  an  introduction 
to  you  before  you  left  Montreal." 

Mrs.  Hummelmueller 's  face  beamed,  while 
Gretchen  blushed  a  little  consciously  at  the 
broad  personal  compliment  to  herself. 

But  she  managed  to  say,  politely: 

"You  are  very  kind,  madam;  and  you  may 


212  ERIC  MAROTTE 

be  sure  we  shall  appreciate  your  courtesies,  and 
perhaps  we  may  some  time  be  permitted  to 
return  them.  Mamma  and  I  were  just  wonder 
ing  how  to  get  about  in  the  morning  and  what 
to  do  first;  but  now  with  you  and  Mr.  Marotte 
for  "friends,  philosophers  and  guides, "  we  shall 
fare  far  better  than  we  could  have  expected. 
If  you  will  direct  us  how  to  go  about  our  sight 
seeing,  we  will  try  not  to  impose  upon  your 
time  and  good-nature  too  much." 

"The  pleasure  will  be  ours,"  returned  Mrs. 
Marotte.  "You  see,  you  two  are  persona  grata 
with  us." 

Mr.  Marotte  and  Gretchen's  mother  now 
joining  in  the  general  conversation,  an  hour 
sped  by  unheeded ;  till  Mrs.  Marotte,  happening 
to  glance  at  the  big  office-clock,  gave  a  quick 
exclamation  of  surprise.  Addressing  her  hus 
band,  she  cried  out  half -anxiously: 

"Good  gracious!  I  have  been  so  wrapped 
up  in  our  talk  that  I  entirely  forgot  the  day! 
Francois,  what  shall  we  do?  I  don't  like  to 
leave  the  ladies  so  abruptly,  but  you  know  how 
much  this  night  means  to  us  both." 

Her  husband  started  to  reply.  She  held  up 
her  hand  with  a  quick,  deterring  gesture. 

"Wait  a  minute!  I  have  an  inspiration!  Why 
not  invite  the  ladies  to  join  us  in  our  private 
parlor?  I  know  we  have  always  before  held 


ENTRB  NOUS  213 

this  occasion  sacred  to  ourselves,  and  that  no 
other  soul  has  ever  witnessed  our  vigils;  but  I 
feel — I  know — that  Fate  has  brought  Miss 
Gretchen  here  to-night  for  some  sure  purpose 
of  its  own,  and  I  am  sorely  tempted  to  break 
our  old  rule,  if  she  and  her  mother  will  grant 
us  their  presence  and  sympathies  for  the 
nonce. "  Mr.  Marotte  nodded  quietly. 

Turning  to  the  others,  she  explained  that 
she  and  her  husband  had  planned  to  hold  an 
"  anniversary  "  in  their  rooms  that  evening,  and 
added  that,  "if  not  too  fatigued  with  their  long 
journey,  she  begged  them  to  accompany  them 
there  now."  "She  would  not  detain  them 
long, ' '  she  said, ' '  and  would  acquaint  them  with 
one  of  the  strangest  tales  of  real  life  they  had 
ever  heard. " 

Curious  and  sympathetic,  they  responded 
willingly  to  her  urgent  entreaties,  and  the  whole 
party  walked  at  once  to  the  "lift." 

Entering  their  own  parlor,  Mrs.  Marotte 
turned  on  the  lights,  and  disclosed  a  table  set 
in  the  centre  of  the  room  and  laid  with  a  white 
cloth,  upon  which  rested  a  round  "  birth-day- 
cake,  "  surmounted  all  around  its  outside  edge 
by  twenty  inserted,  tiny,  pure-white  wax  can 
dles. 

Drawing  up  four  chairs  to  the  four  sides  of 
the  small  table  and  requesting  their  visitors  to 


214  ERIC  MAROTTE 

be  seated  on  either  side  of  herself,  she  and  her 
husband  sat  down  facing  each  other;  and  a  short 
silence  ensued. 

The  suspense  was  ended,  after  a  little,  by 
Mr.  Marotte,  who  lowered  his  eyes,  and  in  a 
subdued  voice  asked  a  benediction  in  these 
strange  words: 

1 '  0  Father  of  the  fatherless,  whose  all-seeing 
eyes  can  scan  this  earth  from  pole  to  pole, 
whose  wide  omniscient  ear  can  hear  the  cries 
and  prayers  of  each  dumb  brute  and  every  mor 
tal  in  distress,  whose  mercy  mild  encompasses 
e'en  when  we  go  astray;  we  thank  Thee  fer 
vently  for  all  the  blessings  with  which  it  long 
hath  pleased  Thy  overheart  to  so  endow  us. 
We  do  adore  Thee,  and  do  not  now  complain, 
but  if  thou  wilt  but  hear  our  humble  supplica 
tions,  watch  Thou  o'er  our  little  son  where'er 
he  wanders,  and  let  us  see  him  once  again  be 
fore  we  die.  Or,  if  Thou  hast  already  called 
him  to  Thy  side,  so  guide  our  footsteps  that 
in  death  they  lead  to  him.  Amen." 

He  raised  his  bowed  head,  and  his  wife,  with 
strained  lips  and  suffering  eyes,  arose  and 
lighted  all  the  little  candles  one  by  one. 

Mrs.  Hummelmueller  and  Gretchen  were  so 
overcome  by  surprise  at  the  unusual  proceed 
ings  that  they  could  only  sit  silent,  staring 


ENTBE  NOUS  215 

first  at  Mr.  Marotte  and  then  at  his  wife,  in  pity 
ing  wonder. 

The  latter  sat  musing  and  speechless  before 
them,  forgetful  of  their  presence,  gazing  with 
far-away  looks  into  some  hidden  past  whose 
memories  obsessed  them. 

Mrs.  Marotte  was  the  first  to  recover  from 
their  abstraction,  and  with  a  wan,  apologetic 
smile  recalled  herself  to  the  amenities  as 
hostess. 

"You  must  bear  with  us  a  moment,  my  dears, 
and  I  will  elucidate  to  you  the  seeming  strange 
ness  of  this  orison — this  i breaking  of  bread7 
with  the  unseen.  There  is  nothing  fanatical  or 
mystical  about  it  when  you  come  to  understand 
its  meaning  and  the  circumstances  which  orig 
inated  it." 

Taking  up  a  silver  knife  which  lay  beside  a 
pile  of  three  decorated  plates  and  securing  two 
more  plates  from  a  miniature  sideboard,  she 
cut  a  slice  from  the  cake  for  each  of  those  pres 
ent  and  another  one  for  the  spirit  of  their  ab 
sent  son. 

She  moved  a  fifth  chair  to  the  table  beside 
her,  and  set  this  plate  with  its  portion  on  the 
table  in  front  of  it.  In  cutting  the  cake  she 
extinguished  five  of  the  little  candles,  but  left- 
all  of  the  rest  burning.  Before  she  sat  down 
again  in  her  own  place  at  the  table  she  turned 


216  ERIC  MAROTTE 

out  all  the  electric  lamps  in  the  parlor,  throw 
ing  open  the  connecting  door  to  their  bedroom, 
from  whence  a  subdued  glow  bathed  in  an  eerie 
semi-gloom  the  room  in  which  they  sat.  The 
light  from  the  candles  on  the  table  threw  the 
faces  of  those  seated  around  it  into  a  weird, 
Eembrandt-like  relief  in  chiaroscuro,  like  the 
flames  of  a  camp-fire  in  the  woods  on  a  dark 
night.  The  visitors  shivered  and  glanced  fear 
fully  about  the  room. 

Mrs.  Marotte  began  again,  without  preamble : 

"  Twenty  years  ago  to-night  a  son  was  born 
to  us  near  one  of  the  then  far  outposts  of  the 
Canadian  frontier,  in  a  log  cabin  of  two  rooms, 
flanked  by  the  shacks  and  bunk  houses  of  a 
wilderness  logging  camp  in  Northeastern  Mani 
toba. 

"We  were  comparatively  poor  then,  but 
Francois,  my  husband,  owned  a  half  interest  in 
the  timber  we  were  .  cutting  and  personally 
4 bossed'  the  logging  crew. 

"I  had  refused  to  be  separated  from  him 
during  the  logging  season;  and  as  we  could  in 
duce  no  woman  servant  to  follow  us  to  so  wild 
and  lonely  a  spot,  I  had  decided  to  do  most  of 
the  primitive  cooking  and  house-work  for  us 
two  myself,  with  an  occasion  lift  from  the  man 
who  acted  as  our  camp  cook. 

"The  winter  following  the  birth  of  our  son 


ENTRE  NOUS  217 


was  a  severe  one,  even  for  that  part  of  Canada, 
with  a  continuous,  heavy  snow-fall  which  made 
all  our  men  anxious  to  get  out  as  many  logs  as 
possible  and  establish  a  new  logging  record. 

"It  was  now  early  spring,  and  preparations 
for  the  log-drive  down  the  river  and  lakes  were 
nearly  completed.  . 

"Our  child  was  at  this  time  nearly  nine 
months  old  and  seemed  none  the  worse  for  lack 
ing  the  conveniences  and  advantages  of  civil 
ized  communities;  for  he  was  as  sturdy  and 
happy  as  a  baby  can  be  and  the  delight  of  the 
whole  camp,  to  most  of  whose  members  he  was 
a  never-ending  source  of  surprise  and  curiosity 
and  an  object  of  rough  adoration. 

"He  slept  in  a  crude  cradle  the  camp  car 
penter  had  made  and  presented  to  him  with 
bursting  pride,  and  was  allowed  to  crawl  about 
the  floor  of  the  combined  kitchen  and  living 
room  of  the  cabin  during  his  waking  hours, 
when  I  was  busy.  The  big,  open  fireplace  had 
been  fenced  off  with  sapling  branches  to  pre 
vent  his  approaching  it  too  closely.  There  was 
no  door  between  the  two  rooms,  but  a  portier 
improvised  out  of  a  large  blanket  and  rigged 
on  a  round  tree-limb,  answered  its  purpose.  I 
always  fastened  this  back  against  the  door- 
jamb  in  the  day  time,  so  that  the  child  was  never 
out  of  my  sight.  This  precaution  was  taken 


218  ERIC  MAROTTE 

partly  on  account  of  the  wild  animals  which 
occasionally  visited  the  camp  when  hungry — 
even  in  daylight,  when  the  men  were  away  in 
the  timber. 

"Late  one  afternoon,  on  a  day  so  unusually 
mild  that  the  snow  began  to  thaw,  I  left  the 
front  door  of  the  cabin  open  to  let  in  the  bright 
rays  of  the  declining  sun.  About  five  o'clock 
I  found  I  was  out  of  water,  and  seeing  nothing 
around  to  disturb  the  child,  I  took  the  two 
empty  buckets  and  started  for  the  river,  which 
was  only  a  few  rods  away  but  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  cabin  from  its  one  outer  doorway. 
I  was  interested  in  following  the  first  signs  of 
the  coming  spring  and  speculating  on  the  ap 
proaching  log-drive,  and  did  not  hurry;  but  I 
could  not  have  been  outside  the  cabin  over  ten 
minutes  when  I  thought  I  heard  the  baby's 
frightened  cry. 

"  Dropping  the  buckets,  I  ran  back  quickly. 
Just  as  I  rounded  the  corner  of  the  cabin,  I 
saw  a  great  she-bear  half  running,  half  walking, 
towards  the  edge  of  the  clearing,  about  five 
hundred  feet  to  the  west;  and  I  nearly  swooned 
with  fright  and  horror  when  I  saw  our  baby 
clutched  between  one  fore  paw  of  the  bear  and 
its  muzzle. 

"That  sight  was  indelibly  burnt  upon  the 
retinas  of  my  eyes.  It  still  haunts  my  dreams 


ENTRE  NOUS  219 

of  nights,  so  that  I  often  wake  up  in  terror, 
shivering  in  a  cold  perspiration  like  a  murderer 
confronted  by  the  ghost  of  his  victim. 

"The  bear  espied  me  at  the  same  instant  I 
did  her,  and  dropping  to  all  fours  with  the 
babe's  clothing  held  between  her  teeth,  dashed 
off  at  top  speed. 

"I  stumbled  into  the  cabin  half  dazed,  and 
seizing  the  extra  rifle  which  always  hung  on 
the  pegs  over  the  low  door,  ran  screaming 
after  it. 

"I  did  not  dare  to  fire  at  the  bear,  however, 
lest  I  might  kill  the  child  or  only  wound  the 
bear,  which  would  then  likely  destroy  the  child 
in  her  rage.  But  I  fired  two  shots  into  the  air, 
and  their  reports  and  my  screams  must  have 
reached  the  "lumber  jacks"  working  nearest 
by  in  the  woods;  for  I  found  several  of  them 
standing  over  me,  and  trying  to  resuscitate  me, 
and  all  imploring  me  to  tell  them  what  had 
happened,  when  I  recovered  from  my  fit  of 
fainting  on  the  spot,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from 
the  cabin,  where  I  had  fallen  over  a  hidden  log. 

"Just  as  I  opened  my  lips  to  give  them  the 
awful  tidings,  my  husband  came  running  up. 
He  had  gone  first  to  the  cabin,  and  finding  our 
baby  gone  and  the  big  bear's  tracks  leading  to 
and  away  from  it,  had  at  once  surmised  the 
terrible  misfortune  that  had  befallen  us. 


220  ERIC  MAEOTTE 

"He  lifted  me  up  and  set  me  against  the 
trunk  of  a  tree  and  with  quick  words  and  ges 
tures  told  the  men  the  horrible  truth.  Then  he 
and  two  others  who  were  armed  broke  through 
the  tangled  underbrush,  following  the  bear's 
trail,  while  the  rest  of  the  men  present  rushed 
back  to  the  forest  to  spread  the  alarm  and  to  the 
camp  to  gather  arms  for  the  rest  of  the  crew. 

"I  had  badly  sprained  an  ankle  in  my  fall 
over  the  log,  but  got  unsteadily  to  my  feet  and 
attempted  to  limp  after  my  husband's  small 
party,  in  spite  of  the  excruciating  pains  that 
shot  through  my  injured  limb  at  every  step; 
until  a  couple  of  our  men  overtook  me  and  in 
sisted  on  carrying  me  home  to  the  cabin,  where 
they  left  the  camp  cook  to  care  for  and  reassure 
me,  and  to  guard  me  by  force  from  crawling 
after  the  bear  hunters  on  my  hands  and  knees, 
which  he  afterwards  declared  I  repeatedly  tried 
to  do. 

"This  man,  who  was  one  of  our  oldest  and 
most  trusted  hands,  finally  persuaded  me  that 
I  could  do  nothing  to  help  find  and  recover 
our  lost  child,  and  set  to  work  bathing  my 
swollen  ankle  in  hot  water  and  then  wrapping 
it  in  a  hot,  wet  sheet  with  a  blanket  over  that. 

"Hours  went  by  filled  with  such  mental  and 
physical  agony  together  as  I  hope  you  may 
never  have  to  endure.  I  could  only  rage  and 


ENTRB  NOUS  221 

moan  and  weep  by  turns.  Midnight  came,  and 
still  the  men  had  not  returned. 

"At  dawn  they  began  to  straggle  in  from 
various  directions.  It  was  unnecessary  to  ask 
them  any  questions — their  sombre  faces  told 
the  story  of  their  failure  to  find  any  traces  of 
either  the  baby  or  the  bear.  At  three  o'clock 
in  the  morning  the  last  of  the  men  got  in,  ex 
cepting  my  husband  (Francois  here),  and  the 
two  men  who  had  started  out  with  him  at  the 
first.  These  had  stayed  in  the  timber  to  con 
tinue  the  desperate  search. 

"In  the  meantime  the  cook  had  turned  me 
over  to  another  '  nurse '  and  prepared  an  early 
breakfast  for  the  crew.  After  eating  it  and 
taking  two  hours '  sleep,  they  let  the  logging  go 
for  the  day  and  went  out  again,  carrying  along 
with  them  food  for  the  three  men  who  still 
kept  up  the  hunt. 

"Francois  did  not  come  back  to  the  cabin 
at  all  until  they  all  arrived  together  the  follow 
ing  night.  Neither  the  bear  or  the  baby  had 
been  discovered,  nor  had  any  shred  of  the 
baby's  clothing  been  found.  It  seemed  unac 
countable,  but  the  bear's  tracks  had  mysterious 
ly  stopped  at  the  edge  of  a  deep  ravine,  and 
although  the  men  beat  over  every  foot  of  the 
natural  depression  and  followed  its  course  to 
both  its  outlets,  and  searched  the  banks  all 


222  ERIC  MAROTTE 

around  it  a  hundred  times,  they  could  pick  up 
no  trail  of  the  bear's  paws  indicating  that  it 
had  either  entered  or  left  that  ravine. 

"That  night  was  a  more  terrible  one  to  me 
than  the  preceding  night;  for  now  I  had  partly 
lost  the  agonizing  sense  of  suspense,  but  gained 
a  more  horrible  fear  of  certainty.  I  pictured 
to  myself  the  horrible,  revolting  spectacle  of  my 
child  being  leisurely  devoured  by  the  bear.  I 
saw  the  brute  tear  it  part  from  part.  I  heard 
her  crunch  its  little  bones.  I  heard  its  dying 
cries — I  raved!  I  thought  I  should  go  insane, 
and  it  was  imperative  to  watch  and  restrain 
and  soothe  me  during  every  hour. 

"By  the  second  morning  it  was  snowing 
heavily,  in  spite  of  the  lateness  of  the  season; 
and  the  bear's  tracks,  and  even  those  made  by 
our  men  the  day  before,  had  become  entirely 
obliterated.  Nevertheless  my  husband  again 
headed  a  searching-party,  which  spent  another 
whole  day  in  fruitless  attempts  to  locate  the 
bear's  lair.  And  if  the  bear  had  been  in  hiding 
anywhere  near,  she  had  evidently  had  the  nat 
ural  instinct  to  make  her  escape  during  the  first 
fall  of  the  heavy  snow  in  the  middle  of  the  night, 
so  as  to  leave  no  trail  behind  her. 

"The  apparently  miraculous  disappearance 
into  nothingness,  or  thin  air,  of  the  bear  and 
our  child,  has  never  been  explained  to  this  day, 


ENTRE  NOUS  223 

and,  though  the  alarm  was  spread  for  miles 
around  the  camp,  no  one  ever  reported  their 
reappearance  in  any  direction. 

"We  held  back  the  t drive'  to  the  last  pos 
sible  minute,  but  at  last  packed  our  household 
goods  and  camp  equipments  and  poled  the  logs 
down  the  river,  in  a  blank  and  superstitious  de 
spair. 

"Our  reason  tells  us  that  our  boy  is  dead; 
yet,  even  in  this  hour,  I  cannot  disabuse  my 
mind  of  the  prescient  faith  that  he  still  lives, 
and  that  in  God's  own  good  time  we  shall  find 
him  again.  My  heart,  like  a  sixth  sense,  is  ever 
alert  for  some  message  from  the  visible  or  the 
invisible  world  which  shall  disclose  to  us  the 
hidden  clew  we  still  seek. 

"It  was  this  ' sixth  sense'  that  so  suddenly 
drew  my  attention  and  so  strongly  attracted 
me  to  Miss  Gretchen,  and  led  me  to  invite  you 
ladies  to  participate  in  this  anniversary  of  ours, 
which  is  both  commemoration  of  our  dead  and 
a  spiritual  reunion  with  our  living.  I  am 
positive  in  my  heart,  that  Gretchen  is  in  some 
way  connected  with  that  elusive  clew  for  which 
we  have  never  given  up  our  search,  and  I  beg, 
here  on  my  knees,  that  she  help  us  if  she  can!" 

Mrs.  Marotte  ceased  speaking,  her  voice 
hoarse  from  emotion,  and  her  breast  heaving 
with  an  agitation  that  was  reflected  in  her  hus- 


224  ERIC  MAROTTE 

band's  pleading  face.  They  both  gazed  expect 
antly  at  Mrs.  Hummelmueller  and  Gretchen. 
The  latter  had  listened,  as  had  her  mother,  in 
breathless  silence  and  awe  to  the  astonishing 
story  and  its  weird  mental  association  with  her 
self  by  their  hosts;  and  for  the  space  of  several 
minutes  neither  spoke. 

Comment  semed  cruel  and  superfluous — the 
mystery  and  the  wound  were  too  deep  for  tact 
less  probing;  and  they  were  too  deeply  and  sin 
cerely  affected  by  the  story  to  offer  their  hosts 
either  unsought  advice  or  compassionate  plati 
tudes  and  banalities. 

A  spell  seemed  to  have  been  cast  over  the 
young  girl  that  she  could  not  break.  Turning 
her  eyes  slowly  upon  Mrs.  Marotte  with  a  half- 
hypnotized  expression  on  her  face,  she  said: 

"You  have  almost  convinced  me  that  there 
is  such  a  thing  as  the  sixth  sense  and  that  it 
is  now  coming  to  me  and  will  eventually  lead 
me  to  the  same  goal  your  own  heart  sees  ahead. 
I  shall  never  cease  now  to  watch  for  the  signs, 
however  slight,  of  the  spiritual,  guiding  hand 
which  men  call  woman 's  intuition,  in  eager  hope 
that  it  will,  soon  or  late,  point  out  to  me  the  way 
to  help  you.  And,  too,  I  feel  subconsciously 
that  my  own  future  is  inextricably  and  pecul 
iarly  involved  in  yours. " 

Mrs.  Marotte  arose  with,  a  relieved  sigh  and 


ENTRE  NOUS  225 

kissed  Gretchen's  forehead  with,  the  holy,  con 
secrating  kiss  of  perfect  trust  and  a  mother's 
blessing,  then  moved  her  chair  close  and  sat 
down  with  one  arm  around  her. 

Their  talk  drifted  into  ordinary  channels 
again,  until  the  party  separated  for  the  evening. 
That  night  and  many  a  night  thereafter 
Gretchen  dreamed  strange  dreams,  creations  of 
subconsciousness  and  spirituality,  broken  and 
intermittent  and  obscure,  yet  ever  returning  to 
the  same  one  kaleidoscopic  scene — breaking 
again  into  a  thousand  new  ones  before  the 
sleeping  brain-cells  could  fix  or  record  its  mean 
ing.  In  the  morning  she  could  never  recall 
clearly  and  coherently  any  part  of  these  visions, 
but  she  considered  it  a  good  omen  that  she  al 
ways  awoke  from  them  happy  and  hopeful. 

After  two  days  of  sight-seeing  and  shopping 
under  the  chaperonage  of  their  new-found 
friends,  she  and  her  mother  bid  them  "Auf 
wiedersehen,"  and  proceeded  on  their  way 
towards  Quebec.  Before  they  left,  however,  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Marotte  promised  to  look  them  up  in 
Chicago  the  next  time  they  visited  "The 
States,"  where  business  matters  frequently 
called  them,  and  to  correspond  with  them  in 
the  meantime. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

HOME  AGAIN-ALSO  A  COLLOQUIAL  DISSERTATION 
ON  THE  RACE  PROBLEM 

HEN  John,  after  his  last  university 
semester,  returned  to  Chicago 
with  his  baccalaureate  degree, 
Mrs.  Hummelmueller  and  Gretchen 
were  still  absent  on  their  travels,  and  for  a  week 
or  so  Young-Love  could  not  go  a-wooing.  His 
reception  by  his  many  old  friends  and  admir 
ers  was  cordial  if  not  hilarious;  and  his  foster- 
parents  were,  of  course,  openly  proud  of  him, 
and  secretly  adored  him  as  a  coming  genius 
marked  by  both  Fame  and  Fortune  for  their 
own — as  the  fond  parents  of  even  the  most  me 
diocre  college  graduates  are  generously  apt  to 
be  and  do,  God  bless  'em!  There  was  nothing 
too  good  for  him  at  home,  and  they  listened  to 
his  youthfully  ambitious  plans  and  ideas  and 
his  dissertations  on  college  life  and  studies  with 
that  respectful,  self-gratulatory  awe  which  the 
uneducated  invariably  feel  in  the  presence  of 
those  for  whom  they  have  been  enabled,  by 
either  good  fortune  or  personal  sacrifice,  to  pro 
vide  the  opportunities  for  higher  education  that 
they  themselves  have  been  denied,  and  the  lack 

226 


HOME    AGAIN— EACE  PROBLEM         227 

of  which  in  their  own  cases  they  have  long  se 
cretly  regretted  with  that  over-estimation  of 
the  power  of  mere  learning  common  to  those 
who  have  succeeded  in  life  without  it,  and  who, 
with  the  coming  of  financial  and  social  eleva 
tion,  begin  to  feel  the  need  of  its  polish  and 
convenience  the  more  keenly.  Higher  educa 
tion  may  be  a  failure  sometimes  (as  the  late 
educationally  iconoclastic  iron-master,  Mr. 
Crane,  so  strenuously  maintained),  but  there  is 
a  wondrous  lot  of  satisfaction  in  its  possession, 
even  vicariously. 

It  was  decided  by  John's  family  that  noth 
ing  should  be  done  about  choosing  a  "  career " 
for  their  budding  genius  until  the  return  home 
of  the  Hummelmuellers  mere  and  fille.  The 
principal  of  the  ten  thousand  dollars  reward 
that  Mr.  Hummelmueller  had  insisted  upon  set 
tling  upon  John  for  his  wonderful,  heroic  rescue 
of  Gretchen  from  the  lumber  yard  fire,  had  not 
been  touched,  as  the  income  from  its  profitable 
investment  had  been  sufficient,  with  what  his 
foster-father  could  spare  him,  to  carry  him 
through  his  four  years  at  the  university,  and 
was  still  intact,  and  immediately  available. 
When  all  the  members  of  both  families  were 
finally  assembled  together  in  solemn  confabu 
lation  over  the  important  question  of  John's 
proper  vocational  choice,  they  took  up  the  mat- 


228  ERIC  MAROTTE 

ter  in  all  its  phases  and  threshed  out  the  pros 
and  cons  of  whether  it  would  be  better  to  use 
it  in  purchasing  for  John  an  interest  in  some 
congenial  business  at  once  or  to  leave  it  where 
it  was  for  the  present  and  find  him  a  position 
with  a  large  concern  where  he  could  rise  by 
his  own  merits.  John's  own  inclination  was  to 
combine  the  two  ideas  by  entering  some  good 
line  of  business  as  an  employee,  with  the  privi 
lege  of  acquiring  a  partnership,  or  stock,  in  the 
concern  later  on  if  mutually  agreeable  to  him 
self  and  his  employers.  This  plan  appealed 
to  them  all  as  a  sound  one,  especially  consider 
ing  his  youth  and  inexperience,  and  it  was 
agreed  that  they  (the  men-folks)  should  look 
around  for  a  suitable  opening  for  him. 

This  required  several  months  of  careful  in 
quiries  and  lengthy  conferences,  and  it  was  late 
fall  before  just  the  right  combination  was  found 
and  John  started  to  work.  (Mr.  Hummelmuel- 
ler  would  gladly  have  made  a  place  for  him 
in  his  breweiy,  but  John,  who  did  not  drink 
himself,  had  youthful  scruples  against  selling 
drink  to  others  and  felt,  that  even  if  he  ac 
cepted  the  chance,  his  heart  would  not  be  in 
his  work  and,  moreover,  he  was  not  adapted, 
either  by  birth  or  bringing  up,  to  the  business.) 
The  firm  finally  chosen  was  a  comparatively  new 
one  engaged  in  the  manufacturing  of  machinery 


HOME    AGAIN— RACE  PROBLEM        229 

of  a  special  kind,  and  which  needed  additional 
capital  to  develop  several  promising  side  lines 
in  contemplation.  John  had  a  natural  bent  in 
that  direction  and  felt  that  he  could  bring  to 
his  labors  here  that  greater  likelihood  of  suc 
cess  which  accrues  from  a  genuine  liking  for 
both  the  theory  and  practice  of  the  thing  one 
daily  strives  to  master.  An  absorbing  interest 
in  any  certain  business  or  profession  is  not 
only  the  "hall  mark"  of  success  in  all  its  prob 
abilities,  but  the  key  to  contentment;  and  he 
was  fortunate  in  not  only  being  able  to  choose 
from  the  beginning  a  permanent  and  agreeable 
line  of  work,  but  in  discovering  that  he  had  not 
unduly  overestimated  his  own  adaptability  to 
that  line.  For,  while  it  is  a  wise  axiom  for  a 
youth  starting  out  in  the  world  to  "go  where 
the  door  is  open"  to  him,  it  is  better,  wher 
ever  possible,  to  fit  the  job  to  the  man  rather 
than  the  man  to  the  job. 

John  went  into  harness  with  that  eager-eyed, 
curious,  intelligent  freshness  so  fascinating  to 
observe  in  the  ambitious  young  upon  their  first, 
enthusiastic  engagement  in  the  practical,  sys 
tematized  work  of  the  real  world  of  business — 
before  they  "become  too  wise  for  happiness"  in 
routine  endeavor.  He  was  started  in  overalls 
at  the  bottom  of  the  ladder,  but,  of  course,  re 
mained  on  each  successive  rundle — in  each  sue- 


280  ERIC  MAROTTE 

cessive  position — only  long  enough  to  learn 
practically  and  personally  how  to  perform  its 
respective  labors,  and  to  grasp  intelligently  the 
relation  of  the  thread  of  its  duties  to  the  whole 
fabric  of  the  business.  Within  two  years,  he 
had  mastered  the  entire  details  and  system  of 
the  machine  shop,  and  of  its  sales  department 
as  well,  and  was  made  secretary  and  treasurer 
of  the  stock  company  into  which  the  firm  was 
merged  and  organized  upon  the  investment  with 
it  of  John's  ten  thousand  dollar  " nest-egg' '; 
and  the  new  concern  branched  out  at  once  in 
several  new  special  lines,  their  business  grow 
ing  healthfully  with  the  rapidly  developing  city 
and  its  tributary  fields  of  expanding  trade. 

By  this  course  John  secured  the  double  ad 
vantage  of  not  only  knowing  the  work  of  each 
employee 's  position  so  well  that  none  could  fool 
or  impose  upon  him  and  he  could  use  his  own 
invention  and  initiative  to  simplify  or  increase 
the  efficiency  of  individual  jobs,  and  could  break 
in  new  men  or  take  temporarily  the  place  of  a 
quitter — BUT  of  being  absolutely  sure  of  the 
stability  and  progressiveness  of  the  firm  itself, 
the  personal  peculiarities  of  its  members,  and 
the  true  state  of  its  plant  and  financial  condi 
tion,  together  with  the  profits  reasonably  to  be 
expected  upon  his  investment,  over  and  beyond 


HOME    AGAIN— RACE   PROBLEM        231 

his  stipulated  salary  as  a  working  officer  of  the 
corporation. 

During  these  two  years  of  Ms  apprenticeship, 
unassailed  by  any  pressing  financial  anxieties, 
John  and  Gretchen  made  the  most  of  his  hours 
of  leisure  in  mutual  seeking  for  intellectual 
improvement;  nor  did  they  neglect  to  participate 
in  the  entertainments  and  social  pleasures  of 
their  old  associates  and  new  acquaintances  and 
to  entertain  them  in  their  turn.  But  best  of 
all  to  them  were  those  salubrious  evenings  they 
spent  in  walking  together  and  communing  with 
nature  under  the  steadfast  stars  and  fickle  moon, 
and  their  occasional  Sunday  excursions  to  near 
by  points  of  interest  outside  the  city.  They 
were  still  young,  wisely  happy  in  the  present 
and  attached  to  their  homes  by  tender  ties;  and 
while  their  propinquity  was  very  close  and  mag 
netic,  it  seemed  tacitly  understood  between  them 
that  no  change  in  their  lives  would  or  could 
be  broached  or  considered  until  John  should 
be  definitely  settled  in  a  permanent,  lucrative 
business  position. 

They  were  not  engaged ;  yet  insensibly  they 
acted  as  if  they  were,  and  their  lover-like  con 
stancy  and  delight  in  each  other's  society  gave 
that  impression  to  all  around  them.  In  their 
daily  intercourse,  howbeit,  Gretchen  was  more 
of  the  actual  love-maker  than  John  himself, 


232  ERIC  MAROTTE 

who,  however  much  his  heart  longed  for  the 
spiritual  and  physical  sole  possession  of  her, 
was  continually  subject  to  the  deterrent,  agon 
izing  realization  that  he  was,  in  all  probability, 
a  Negro — or  at  least  had  Negro  blood  in  his 
veins.  Like  a  terrible  nightmare  hanging  over 
him  in  broad  daylight,  was  the  persistent 
thought  that  all  the  beauty,  sweetness,  love  and 
allurement  personified  in  Gretchen  must  be  de 
nied  himself,  and  by  his  own  will,  solely  because 
of  this  unanswered  question  of  his  birth.  The 
only  relieving  brightness  of  hope  that  lit  his 
future  skies  was  the  very  uncertainty  of  the 
identity  and  color  of  skin  of  his  real  parents; 
and  that  was  largely  dimmed  by  the  effects  of 
his  rearing  by  and  long  living  with  his  Negro 
foster-parents,  whom  he  really  loved,  and  whom 
he  so  respected  and  held  in  such  grateful  ven 
eration  that  it  never  entered  his  head  to  be 
ashamed  of  or  deny  them.  The  Mannings  knew 
this  and  it  endeared  him  all  the  more  tenderly 
to  them. 

Craving  Gretchen  with  all  his  heart  and  soul 
and  body,  as  he  did,  he  yet  could  not  bring  him 
self  to  sully  her  with  his  own  ineradicable 
social  flaw  through  their  marriage  and  its  in 
evitable  results.  Suppose  they  came  to  have 
children  born  to  them — would  they  be  black  or 
white  ?  It  was  as  though  he  were  a  leper,  hold- 


HOME    AGAIN— RACE   PROBLEM        233 

ing  her  off  while  madly  longing  for  her;  crying 
out  to  her  that  he  was  "  unclean!  unclean  I" 
Gretchen,  when  she  spoke  of  this  impediment 
at  all,  always  protested  loyally  her  utter  indif 
ference  to  the  objection  which  he  still  regarded 
as  insurmountable  with  honor  towards  her,  and 
begged  him  to  disregard  it,  and  to  forget  it  in 
the  greater  felicity  such  disregard  and  forget- 
fulness  would  bring  about  for  both  of  them — 
saying,  too,  that  she  could  not  believe  in  her 
own  heart  that  he  was  really  a  Negro,  and  that 
they  could  afford  to  leave  the  solution  of  his 
birthright  to  some  happy  chance  of  the  future. 
But  he  could  not  justify  himself  in  accepting 
this  gift  of  the  gods  so  alluringly  held  out  to 
him,  though  the  alternative  of  an  indefinite 
postponement  of  their  marriage  was  fully  as 
bitter  as  the  thought  of  marrying  her  under  the 
blight  of  his  disqualifiedness  for  such  a  bliss. 
On  either  horn  of  the  dilemma  perfect  happiness 
seemed  denied  him,  and  he  was  in  a  fair  way 
of  becoming  hypochondriac  over  the  paralyzing 
indecision  that,  waking  or  sleeping,  haunted 
him.  He  worked  on  mechanically,  hoping 
against  despair  that  a  way  out  would  soon  be 
disclosed  to  him  by  that  higher  Power  to  Whom 
the  different  pigments  in  human  skins  are  but 
as  the  different  colors  of  the  flowers  in  the  gar 
den  of  His  Love. 


234  ERIC  MAROTTE 

Another  Christmas,  that  day  which  both 
families  annually  celebrated  as  the  anniversary 
of  his  sudden,  mystifying  advent  in  the  home 
of  his  foster-parents,  was  now  drawing  near; 
and,  ever  mingled  with  and  tingeing  the 
thoughts  of  the  gaiety  and  loving  charity  and 
good-will  the  day  always  exemplified  to  him,  was 
the  melancholy  touch  of  the  baffling  secret  of 
his  own  birth  and  color,  to  which  he  had  not  the 
slightest  clew. 

To  understand  more  clearly  his  position,  let 
us  suppose  for  a  moment  that  we,  all  of  us, 
knew  not  our  own  parents,  but  were  dropped 
from  the  skies  or  sprung  up  out  of  the  bosom 
of  the  earth  fatherless  and  motherless  and 
knowing  no  racial  connections.  What  then? 

The  Negro  is  always  to  be  pitied,  and  to  be 
helped  whenever  he  shows  a  disposition  to  help 
himself  and  his  own  race  to  rise  above  the  pres 
ent  condition  of  practical  servitude  through 
which  they  must  pass  on  their  age-long  journey 
from  slavery  to  equality  of  opportunity — as 
other  races  have  had  to  do  before  them;  not 
ably  the  Jews,  that  race  of  men  without  a  nation 
to  this  day. 

In  North  America  no  right-thinking  Negro, 
and  very  few  wrong-thinking  ones,  has  any  real 
belief  or  respect  for  miscegenation,  but,  rather, 
they  regard  with  suspicion  or  open  disre- 


HOME   AGAIN— RACE  PROBLEM        235 

spect  the  white  women  who  marry  into  their 
race.  The  number,  especially  of  negresses,  who 
actually  intermarry  with  the  whites  is  so  small 
as  to  be  negligible.  So  those  who  rant  about  the 
Negro 's  demands  for  miscegenation,  are  simply 
wasting  their  breath  on  a  fancied  evil.  (In 
Brazil  and  other  South  American  countries  the 
case  is  different,  especially  in  the  Portuguese 
districts.) 

But  the  cloud  is  there! — the  black,  eating 
despondency  of  their  inequality  with  the  Cau 
casian  race;  and  the  Negroes  must  be  taught 
and  assisted  in  the  only  right  direction,  that 
of  a  racial  success  by  an  interchange  between 
themselves  of  trade  relations,  a  building  up  of 
larger  commercial  enterprises  by  quasi-com 
munal  combinations  of  their  individual  capitals 
and  by  a  social  inter-development,  mentally, 
educationally  and  morally,  among  their  own 
kind,  approaching  gradually  a  higher  standard. 

In  fine,  instead  of  seeking  to  assimilate  with 
the  whites,  they  should  be  a  clan  to  themselves, 
both  socially  and  financially,  like  the  Hebrews, 
who,  to  a  large  extent,  consider  all  other  races 
a  common  financial  prey,  with  whom  they  have 
not,  nor  desire,  either  religious  or  close  social 
relations,  and  inter-marriage  with  whom  is 
against  both  their  religious  and  social  tenets. 
What  the  Jews  have  accomplished  by  clannish, 


236  ERIC  MAROTTE 

mutual  helpfulness,  trust-like  trade  preferences 
and  a  common  front  towards  all  "  outsiders, " 
the  Negroes  can  also,  in  time  and  to  a  minor 
degree,  succeed  in  doing;  and  with  monetary 
success,  added  to  sufficient  numerical  strength 
to  form  satisfactorily  their  own  social  circles 
(properly  elevated),  they  will  no  longer  need 
the  commiseration  of  white  Christians,  any  more 
than  now  do  the  Jews. 

An  example  can  be  pointed  out  and  seen 
more  clearly  in  the  more  analogous  cases  of 
the  different  foreign  "  colonies, "  each  a  law 
unto  itself,  scattered  through  most  of  our  larger, 
Northern  American  cities,  and  the  similar  herd 
ing  together  for  mutual  racial  protection  and 
pleasure  in  various  sections  of  the  North  Ameri 
can  farming  regions  by  peoples  of  a  common 
birth-place  and  language.  These  "  colonies " 
and  ' '  communities ' '  are  rapidly  reaping  a  finan 
cial  success  and  improved  standard  of  living 
due,  particularly,  to  that  clannishness  which 
makes  like  buy  of  like  and  sell  to  those  without 
the  pale  of  their  local,  transported  customs  and 
dialects,  modified  and  Americanized — i.  e.:  all 
other  things  being  equal,  they  give  social  pref 
erence  and  their  trade  to  their  own  kind,  and 
combine  within  their  own  nationality  or  race  to 
increase  in  number  and  enlarge  their  business 
places  and  political  powers  and  benefits. 


HOME    AGAIN— RACE   PROBLEM        237 

This  is  the  real  secret  of  any  possible  racial 
success.  This  the  Negroes,  partly  through  their 
foolish  jealousy  of  each  other's  individual  suc 
cess,  either  have  not  firmly  grasped,  or  lack  the 
initiative  or  outside  help  and  encouragement 
and  capital  to  start  on  any  plan  of  considerable 
magnitude.  I  am  not  overlooking  the  encourag 
ing  fact  that  there  are,  at  least  in  Chicago,  an 
increasing  number  of  business  and  amusement 
enterprises — some  conducted  partly  by  white 
men  and  some  wholly  by  the  Negroes  themselves 
— that  cater  almost  exclusively  to  the  colored 
trade;  and  it  is  noticeable  that  the  larger  and 
better  and  the  more  progressively  managed 
these  places  are,  the  greater  seems  to  be  their 
patronage  and  financial  success.  In  fact,  it 
would  pay  the  white  people  to  put  capital  into 
this  proposed  enlarged  commercial  propaganda; 
but  it  is  absolutely  necessary  for  the  Negroes, 
putting  aside  all  mutual  jealousies  for  the 
greater  desideratum  of  mutual  good,  to  save  or 
borrow  enough,  collectively,  to  own,  in  time,  all 
such  establishments  themselves,  before  they  can 
become  independent  of  the  Caucasians,  and  suf 
ficient  unto  themselves. 

There  are,  too,  many  lines  of  business  in 
which,  with  sufficient  capital,  experience  and 
enterprise,  they  can  combine  to  successfully  sell 
to  the  white  population  on  a  large  scale,  and 


238  ERIC  MAROTTE 

thus  insure  equality  of  opportunity  in  those 
particular  lines.  The  very  capital  and  enter 
prise  thus  exhibited  by  them  would  create  in 
creased  respect  for  them  among  the  white  races 
and  result  in  a  more  ambitious  standard  of 
comparison  on  their  own  part  that  would  bring 
its  own  content. 

Individually,  Negroes  have  already  achieved 
prosperity  of  a  kind  and  in  cases  few  and  far 
between,  but  to  upraise  them  as  a  rave  requires 
concentrated  and  concerted  action  towards  one 
concrete  goal  after  another;  and  the  Negro,  or 
white  man,  who  is  instrumental  in  blazing  wide 
for  them  the  path  to  the  accomplishment  of  this 
dream  of  co-ordinating  co-operation,  will  be  a 
second  Emancipator  of  their  race  and  a  friend 
to  all  humanity. 

Here,  in  the  North,  the  Negro  is  measurably 
free  to  mingle  with  the  whites — he  rides  on  the 
same  cars,  attends  the  same  schools  and 
churches,  buys  of  the  same  stores,  eats  in  the 
same  lunch  rooms,  drinks  in  the  same  saloons, 
visits  the  same  theatres  and  art  galleries,  and, 
in  the  older,  changing,  residential  parts  of  the 
city,  lives  on  the  same  streets.  Some  of  the 
higher-priced  and  more  exclusive  of  these  places 
are  more  or  less  barred  to  him,  but  they  almost 
equally  bar  the  white  person  of  small  means  by 
not  catering  to  him,  nor  making  him  welcome. 


HOME    AGAIN— RACE   PROBLEM        239 

The  Negro  is  highly  imitative  and,  like  the 
Jew,  aspires  to  every  advantage  of  the  white 
Christian,  and  tries  to  encroach  upon  the  homes 
and  places  of  abode  of  the  better  class  of  the 
latter  as  nearly  as  possible,  thinking,  like  the 
Jew,  that  they  must  be  the  more  desirable,  or 
most  to  be  desired.  But  the  Negro  must  under 
stand  thoroughly  that  historically  he  is  many 
centuries  behind  the  Jew  in  development,  and 
as  many  centuries  nearer  to  his  old  slavery  than 
the  Jew  is  to  his  ancient  Egyptian  bondage. 
And  he  must  keep  in  mind,  too,  that  Jews  are 
the  first  prey  of  new  ideas,  with  their  alert  in 
tellect,  their  swift  reception,  their  keen  critical 
sense.  Instead  of  1 1  kicking  against  the  pricks ' ' 
of  his  greater  social,  commercial  and  labor  limi 
tations,  he  should  do  as  the  Jews  have  done 
through  generation  after  generation  (in  spite 
of  the  ostracism  and  outrages  perpetrated  upon 
them  in  many  countries,  even  now)  viz.:  pry 
his  way  slowly  into  each  and  every  working 
trade  and  business  and  vocation  and  profession, 
one  after  another;  not  forgetting  the  Jewish 
formula  of  following  closely  in  the  footsteps 
of  each  leader  who  succeeds  in  breaking  into 
a  particular  line  of  human  endeavor  and  thus 
gradually  augmenting  their  numbers  in  each 
line  in  which  a  foothold  once  is  gained  by  them. 

All  this  could  be  said  in  the  passing  of  a 


240  ERIC  MAROTTE 

street  car  from  home  to  working  place  or  writ 
ten  within  the  space  of  a  single  ledger-page, 
but  its  actual  full  consummation  is,  perhaps, 
the  work  of  life-times  yet  to  come.  But  all  evo 
lutions  have  their  striking  crises,  and,  only 
recently,  certain  small  foreign  kingdoms  sprang 
up  republics  over  night.  Japan  has  in  less  than 
a  score  of  years  become  almost  completely  trans 
mogrified  in  its  national  life  and  progress,  and 
even  Turkey  and  China  have  blossomed  full 
blown  into  a  higher  freedom,  setting  aside  in  an 
hour  the  degenerating  influences  and  customs, 
the  corruption  and  abuses,  of  seemingly  endless 
and  impregnable  powers  inherited  from  the  dark 
ages.  Like  fires  that  had  smouldered  for  years, 
they  burst  suddenly  and  surely  into  the  flames 
of  either  fiery  or  peaceful  revolution. 

So  the  Negro's  amelioration  of  his  own  con 
ditions,  when  once  started  along  intelligent,  far- 
seeing  courses,  may  be  brought  to  fruition  more 
abruptly  than  we  can  conceive.  Dr.  Hollis 
Burke  Prissel,  doctor  of  human  kindness,  has, 
through  his  tireless  and  unadvertised  efforts 
and  aided  wholly  by  Northern  donors,  sent  out 
thousands  of  pupils  to  carry  the  Hampton  Insti 
tute  spirit  of  labor  and  service  into  the  world. 

Booker  T.  Washington  has  formulated  and 
promulgated  a  noble  and  far-reaching  concep 
tion  in  his  Tuskegee  Institute,  a  university  for 


HOME    AGAIN— RACE  PROBLEM        241 

Negroes,  with  its  practical  instruction  in  farm 
ing  and  trade  lines  and  the  professions,  and  its 
policy  of  sending  out  its  graduates  and  teachers 
as  leaders  of  smaller  Negro  schools;  but  the 
great  mass  of  Negroes  of  the  present  generation 
should  not  and  cannot  wait  inanely  for  such 
round-about  help  alone — especially  in  the  North, 
where  opportunities  for  radical  advancement, 
particularly  in  the  cities,  can  be  made  and  util 
ized  now  and  at  once.  Sporadic  attempts  have 
been  made  from  time  to  time,  to  better  the  Ne 
gro's  position,  both  by  individuals  and  asso 
ciations;  and  through  the  Negroes'  National 
Business  League  considerable  organized  prog 
ress  has  already  been  made.  With  the  financial 
assistance  of  several  public-spirited  millionaires 
of  Chicago,  notably  Julius  Bosenwald,  Cyrus 
H.  McCormick,  N.  W.  Harris  and  Mrs.  Gustavus 
F.  Swift,  ten  thousand  Negroes  have  just  con 
tributed  and  collected  the  funds  needed  for  the 
erection  of  the  first  colored  Y.  M.  C.  A.  building 
in  that  city,  if  not  in  the  United  States.  The 
National  Association  of  Colored  Business  Men 
(or  National  Negro  Business  League)  has  just 
held  an  important  convention  in  the  same  city. 
The  following  clippings  from  the  Chicago 
Tribune  of  August  twenty-second,  twenty-third 
and  twenty-fourth,  1912,  reproduced  here  by 
permission,  show  conclusively  the  practicability 


242  ERIC  MAROTTE 

of  the  ideas  herein  emphasized  and  the  ready, 
self -helpful  response  of  the  Negro  to  beneficent 
exploitation : 

CITES  NEGRO  DUTY  IN  CHICAGO 'BELT' 

Booker  T.Washington  Holds  Race  Responsible 
for  All  Its  Vice  and  Crime 


TELLS  OF  OPPORTUNITIES 

Asserts  Colored  Merchants  of  the  South  Gain  Trade 
of  White  Residents  There 


Booker  T.  Washington,  speaking  before  the  convention 
of  the  National  Negro  Business  League  at  the  Institutional 
Church,  Dearborn  near  Thirty-eighth  street,  last  night, 
urged  on  the  members  of  Chicago's  Negro  colony  their 
responsibility  for  keeping  the  "black  belt"  free  from  crime 
and  vice. 

"I  have  been  surprised  and  delighted  at  the  progress 
made  by  colored  business  men  in  Chicago.  As  I  drove  down 
State  street  the  other  day  for  a  mile  and  a  half  I  am  sure 
that  two-thirds  of  the  places  of  business  I  saw  were  con 
ducted  by  colored  men. 

"I  was  equally  delighted  to  discover  what  handsome 
houses  many  of  our  people  were  living  in.  As  I  have  had 
a  chance  to  visit  these  houses  I  have  been  pleased  to  find 
how  handsomely,  even  artistically,  they  were  furnished 
and  how  carefully  and  neatly  they  were  maintained. 

LAUDS    PROGRESS    HERE. 

"It  would  be  a  revelation  to  our  people  of  forty  years 
ago  to  see  the  kind  of  homes  in  which  their  children  and 
grandchildren  were  beginning  to  live.  I  do  not  think  there 
is  a  large  city  in  this  country  where  there  is  a  community 
of  colored  people  living  together  in  such  numbers  as  you 
do  here  which  has  made  so  rapid  progress  in  so  short  a 
time. 

"All  this  imposes  a  heavy  responsibility.  In  a  section 
of  the  city  where  the  colored  people  are  in  the  majority, 
the  colored  people  are  responsible  for  conditions  in  that  por 
tion  of  the  city.  If  there  is  drunkenness,  if  there  is  gamb- 


HOME    AGAIN— RACE   PROBLEM        243 

ling,   if  there   is   crime,   the  colored  people   will  be   held  re 
sponsible,   because  this   is   a  recognized   colored  community. 

"I  wish  to  emphasize  particularly  to  members  of  my 
race  who  have  come  here  from  the  South,  where  they  have 
had  little  or  no  share  in  the  government  by  which  they  are 
controlled,  that  here  in  Chicago  a  new  and  grave  responsi 
bility  rests  upon  them  in  that  respect.  It  rests  on  the  Ne 
groes  of  Chicago  to  demonstrate  to  the  world  to  what 
extent  a  Negro  community  like  this,  amid  all  the  tempta 
tions  of  a  great  city,  can  make  itself  a  united,  progressive, 
law-abiding  community,  one  that  will  be  looked  up  to  and 
respected. 

SAYS  NEGROES  MUST  UNITE 

"In  order  to  accomplish  this  we  must  unite  ourselves 
with  all  the  forces  in  this  city  that  are  striving  for  better 
things.  We  must  unite  all  the  best  element  among  our 
selves.  The  local  business  league  can  exercise  a  wide  influ 
ence  in  this  direction.  It  can  do  this  by  putting  its  influ 
ence  behind  the  man  or  the  business  who  is  really  trying 
to  do  a  good  thing. 

"At  the  present  time  there  are  more  than  270,000,000 
acres  of  unused  and  unoccupied  land  in  the  South  and  West. 
In  fact,  one-half  of  the  land  in  the  South  and  two-thirds  of 
the  lands  in  the  West  is  still  unused.  Now  is  the  time  for 
us  to  become  the  owners  and  users  of  our  share  before  it 
is  too  late.  From  ownership  of  the  soil  comes  independence, 
self-support,  happiness,  and  real  manhood  rights.  Land 
that  can  be  gotten  at  $10  an  acre  now,  a  few  years  hence 
cannot  be  gotten  for  two  and  three  times  as  much. 

"There  are  places  in  the  South  for  5,000  additional  dry 
goods  stores  and  there  are  colored  people  enough  to  support 
them.  In  the  South  the  Negro  merchant  is  not  dependent 
on  the  trade  of  his  own  race  alone. 

SAYS  WHITE  MEN  PATRONIZE  NEGROES 

"Not  only  the  colored  man  trades  at  the  colored  man's 
dry  goods  store,  but  the  best  white  people  are  not  afraid 
to  patronize  a  first  class  Negro  store.  The  same  thing 
is  true  of  other  business  enterprises  owned  and  controlled 
by  colored  people. 

"There  are  openings  in  the  south  for  at  least  8,000 
additional  grocery  stores,  for  3,500  drug  stores.  There  are 
openings  in  the  south  for  2,000  shoe  stores,  1,500  mil 
linery  stores,  and  there  are  communities  in  the  south  where 
2,000  negro  banks  can  be  operated  and  supported.  Further 
than  this,  there  are  places  in  the  south  where  at  least 
twenty-five  self-governing,  self-supporting,  self-directing 
towns  or  cities  may  be  established,  where  the  colored  people 
can  have  their  own  mayor,  their  own  board  of  aldermen, 
their  own  self-government  from  every  point  of  view.  In 


244  ERIC  MAROTTE 

the  last  analysis,  local  self-government  is  the  most  precious 
kind    of   government. 

"All  that  I  am  here  advocating  and  emphasizing  does 
not  mean  the  limitation  or  circumscribing  of  our  race  men 
tally,  morally,  civilly,  or  in  other  directions,  but  it  does 
mean  real  growth  and  real  independence  in  all  these  direc 
tions." 

NEGROES  REVEAL  SUCCESS  SECRETS 


Say  Business  Opportunities  Depend  on  Willing 
ness  to  Work  Well  and  Honestly 


PUT   BAR  ON  COLOR  LINE" 


'Patronize  Your  Own  People,"  Advises  One  Speaker 
at  Chicago  Convention 


Business  opportunities  for  the  American  Negro  depend 
on  his  willingness  to  work  well  and  honestly.  Courage, 
imagination,  effort,  and  energy  are  the  groundwork  of  suc 
cess  in  industrial  pursuits. 

This  is  the  story  being  told  and  retold  by  successful 
Negro  business  men  and  educators  at  the  thirteenth  annual 
meeting  of  the  National  Negro  Business  League  at  Institu 
tional  church,  3824  South  Dearborn  street. 

"The  Negro  never  will  be  able  to  accomplish  anything 
by  sitting  around  and  complaining,"  said  Charles  Banks, 
vice  president,'  in  calling  the  organization  to  order  yester 
day.  "The  Negro  has  it  in  his  power  to  accomplish  wonders 
in  the  fields  of  industry  if  he  but  shows  industry,  honesty, 
and  thrift."  , 

PUBLISHER  TELLS  SUCCESS 

Dr.  R.  H.  Boyd  of  Nashville,  Tenn.,  told  of  the  growth 
of  a  publishing  business  which  he  started  in  1896,  without 
assistance  and  with  little  capital.  Today,  according  to  Dr. 
Boyd,  the  business  employs  about  200  Negro  men  and  is 
rated  at  $350,000. 

"The  Negro  should  start  out  for  himself  and  be  willing 
to  work  well  and  honestly  to  accomplish  something,"  Dr. 
Boyd  said.  "It  Is  imperative  for  the  welfare  of  the  race  that 
we  as  Negroes  should  produce,  should  manufacture  some  of 
everything  we  consume." 


HOME   AGAIN— RACE  PROBLEM        245 

J.  H.  Phillips,  Montgomery,  Ala.,  told  of  industrial  in 
surance  as  developed  by  and  among  Negroes.  He  said  the 
Mutual  Aid  Association  of  Mobile,  Ala.,  which  started  six 
teen  years  ago  with  a  membership  of  six,  had  written  over 
510,000,000  worth  of  business  and  had  paid  to  beneficiaries 
more  than  $3,100,000.  Five  hundred  Negro  men  and  women 
are  employed  by  the  company  in  Florida,  Alabama,  and  Mis 
sissippi. 

W.  H.  Bell,  Evansville,  Ind.,  related  how  he  had  started 
on  a  salary  of  50  cents  a  day  and  now  owns  and  controls 
a  business  which  pays  taxes  on  $20,000  worth  of  property. 

NEVER   DRAWS    COLOR  LINE. 

"I  never  draw  the  color  line,"  said  L.  W.  Mclntyre  of 
Louisiana.  "When  I  want  a  house  I  draw  the  plans  and 
let  the  contractors  submit  bids  and  let  the  work  to  the 
lowest  responsible  bidder,  whether  he  is  white  or  black. 
We  cannot  afford  to  draw  the  color  line." 

"The  success  of  the  Negro  depends  on  the  encourage 
ment  he  receives  from  his  own  people  as  well  as  upon 
the  honest  effort  he  makes  to  succeed,"  declared  Joseph 
L.  Jones  of  Cincinnati,  O.,  manager  of  the  Central  Regalia 
Company.  "Every  mother  and  father,"  he  said,  "should  en 
courage  their  children  to  buy  candy  from  negro  merchants. 
They  should  patronize  a  Negro  grocer,  and,  when  sick,  call 
a  Negro  doctor." 


THE  NEGRO  BUSINESS  LEAGUE 

(Chicago  Tribune  Editorial) 

The  National  Negro  Business  League,  which  held  its 
thirteenth  annual  convention  this  week  in  Chicago,  is  one 
of  several  means  which  Dr.  Booker  T.  Washington,  its 
founder  and  president,  has  devised  to  encourage  and  direct 
his  people  in  their  efforts  to  help  themselves.  This  league, 
which  was  organized  in  Boston  twelve  years  ago,  has  now 
extended  its  influence  through  local  leagues  to  nearly  every 
part  of  the  United  States  where  there  are  any  considerable 
number  of  colored  people  living.  It  has  local  organizations 
in  thirty-two  states,  and  in  ten  southern  states  these  local 
leagues  have  united  to  form  state  organizations. 

In  1906  there  was  organized,  in  close  affiliation  with  the 
business  league,  the  National  Negro  Bankers'  Association. 
This  was  followed  by  the  organization  of  the  Negro  Press 
Association  and  the  Negro  Bar  Association,  each  of  which 
organizations  holds  its  sessions  separately  but  in  connec 
tion  with  the  meetings  of  the  league. 


246  ERIC  MAROTTE 

Some  notion  of  the  variety  and  general  character  of 
the  work  and  influence  of  these  subsidiary  organizations 
may  be  gathered  from  the  recently  issued  twelfth  annual 
report.  At  the  last  meeting  of  the  league,  for  example, 
a  delegate  from  St.  Denis,  Md.,  which  seems  to  be  a  little 
country  village  in  the  midst  of  a  rich  truck  farming  country, 
reported  that  the  members  of  the  local  organization  at  that 
place — most  of  whom,  like  himself,  were  prosperous  farmers 
— had  organized  the  previous  year  an  association  for  co 
operative  buying,  and  had  made  a  saving  the  first  year 
of  $300  in  the  cost  of  fertilizer  alone.  This  first  attempt 
at  co-operative  buying  had  been  so  successful  that  they 
proposed  to  do  the  same  thing  on  a  grander  scale  the  fol 
lowing  year.  It  has  been  frequently  suggested  that  co 
operative  associations  such  as  exist  among  the  small  farm 
ers  in  every  part  of  Europe  might  offer  a  solution  of  the 
problem  of  the  Negro  farmer  in  the  south,  but  this  is  the 
first  instance  of  which  we  have  any  report  where  the  ex 
periment  has  been  tried. 

Another  delegate  from  the  little  Negro  town  of  Boley, 
Okla.,  which  claims  the  distinction  of  having  a  population 
of  4,000  without  a  single  white  inhabitant,  reported  that 
the  business  league  at  that  place  was  doing  the  work  of  a 
chamber  of  commerce.  It  was  advertising  the  town  through 
out  the  south,  promoting  immigration,  assisting  in  the 
establishment  of  new  enterprises,  and  in  general  promoting 
the  business  interests  of  the  town.  Boley  already  has  a 
waterworks  system,  an  electric  lighting  plant,  four  cotton 
gins,  not  to  speak  of  five  churches  and  a  Masonic  Temple, 
and  continues  to  grow  and  prosper. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  report  of  the  Negro  Bankers, 
Association,  which  represents  some  twenty-five  of  the  sixty- 
one  Negro  banks  in  the  whole  of  the  United  States,  re 
ported  that  plans  were  in  preparation  to  establish  a  strong 
central  bank  in  which  each  of  the  smaller  banks,  being 
members  of  the  association,  would  be  required  to  deposit 
a  reserve  fund,  and  this  reserve  would  then  be  the  means 
of  mutual  control  and  support  to  all  its  members. 

These  instances  illustrate  some  of  the  many  ways  in 
which  the  Negro  Business  League  is  helping  the  Negro  peo 
ple  to  turn  to  use  the  opportunities  about  them;  to  build 
up,  out  of  their  poverty  and  inexperience,  strong  and  sub 
stantial  business  institutions,  which  will  secure  to  them 
and  their  children  some  of  the  fruits  of  their  labor  and 
enable  future  generations  to  begin  their  life  on  a  higher 
plane  than  that  of  their  predecessors. 


HOME    AGAIN— RACE   PROBLEM        247 

NEGRO'S  COLOR  NO  HANDICAP? 

Speakers  Say  Black  Skin  Is  No  Bar  to  Success 

FORTY  BANKERS  AS  EXHIBIT 

Man  Who  Was  Born  a  Slave  Now  Heads  $100,000  Concern 

Negro  business  men  and  merchants  from  all  sections 
of  the  country  were  introduced  yesterday  before  the  Na 
tional  Negro  Business  League  at  Institutional  church,  3824 
South  Dearborn  street,  as  proof  that  color  is  no  bar  to 
success. 

Growth  of  Mound  Bayou,  Miss.,  from  a  few  shacks  to 
a  prosperous  business  community,  with  a  population  of 
more  than  1,000  Negroes,  was  told  by  Isaiah  T.  Montgomery, 
founder  of  the  town.  It  now  has  a  bank,  a  Carnegie  li 
brary,  oil  and  lumber  mills,  churches,  a  co-operative  mer 
cantile  house,  and  other  institutions. 

WAS    BORN    A   SLAVE. 

"  I  was  born  a  slave  in  1347  on  a  plantation  owned  by 
Joseph  E.  Davis,  brother  of  the  confederate  president," 
the  speaker  said.  "In  1887,  being  attracted  by  the  Yazoo 
delta  land,  I  established  a  colony.  The  town  now  compares 
favorably  with  other  towns  of  its  size  in  the  state.  The 
town  is  inhabited  exclusively  by  Negroes  and  I  am  presi 
dent  of  a  $100,000  company  which  recently  has  erected  a 
large  mill  for  making  cottonseed  oil.  The  land,  which 
some  years  ago  might  have  been  bought  for  $1  an  acre, 
now  is  held  at  $100  an  acre." 

Forty  Negro  bankers  attended  the  last  day's  session 
of  the  league  and  told  of  their  success.  W.  R.  Pettiford 
told  how  the  Penny  Savings  bank  was  organized  in  Bir 
mingham,  Ala,,  twenty-two  years  ago. 

"As  a  race,"  he  said,  "we  must  enter  every  field  oc 
cupied  by  other  people,  and  if  we  fail  in  this  we  will  never 
be  able  to  take  a  place  in  the  industrial  world." 

NEGRO   LAWYER  SUCCEEDS 

P.  W.  Howard  of  Jackson,  Miss.,  a  lawyer,  told  of  prog 
ress  being  made  by  professional  men  among  his  race,  and 
predicted  the  success  of  any  Negro  with  ambition  and  will 
ingness  to  work  hard. 

"Some  persons  may  consider  the  idea  of  North  or 
South,"  said  S.  E.  Wiggins,  Little  Rock,  Ark.,  "but  a  man 
is  a  man  the  world  over  and  will  be  recognized  as  such 
if  he  shows  the  proper  respect  for  himself  and  for  others." 


248  ERIC  MAROTTE 


PLEADS  FOR  "SIMPLE  JUSTICE" 

FOR  THE  AMERICAN  NEGRO 

Judge  Marcus  Kavanagh  Advocates  National  Com 
mission  to  Investigate  Existing  Prejudices 

(From  Chicago  Tribune  of  Oct.  12,  IQ/S) 

In  a  plea  for  "simple  justice"  for  the  American  Negro 
Judge  Marcus  Kavanagh  of  the  Superior  Court  In  a  speech 
before  the  Irish  Fellowship  club  at  the  Hotel  La  Salle  yes 
terday,  advocated  the  appointment  of  a  national  commission 
to  inquire  into  existing  prejudices  which  bar  Negroes  of 
good  education  from  competing  with  whites  in  the  business 
world.  His  subject  was  "The  Future  of  the  American 
Negro." 

"In  1790  there  were  less  than  800,000  Negroes  in  this 
country,  and  today  we  have  more  than  10,000,000,"  he  said. 
"Few  of  these  are  of  pure  African  blood,  and  nearly  all 
have  white  blood;  millions  more  white  than  black.  Here 
they  are  about  us,  with  white  men's  hearts  and  white  men's 
brains,  but  shut  out  from  everything  in  this  life  worth 
while. 

"What  is  the  cure  for  this  situation?  Why,  the  same 
simple  cure  that  has  remedied  every  social  evil  since  the 
world  began — simple  justice.  The  first  thing  to  be  done 
is  to  free  ourselves  from  prejudices,  then  to  free  others; 
and  I  propose  the  appointment  of  a  national  commission 
to  take  evidence  and  report  on  this  matter." 

These  are  but  the  signs  of  the  times,  and 
indicate  the  truth  of  the  inevitable  progress  that 
is  bound  to  ensue  from  a  broader,  more  unselfish 
policy,  as  outlined  here. 

The  Negro  has  a  brain — his  race  has  num- 
uers.  Show  him  how  to  use  these  two  elements 
of  progress  for  the  collective  gain  of  his  own 
people,  and  then  give  him  the  chance  to  do  it! 
He  is  adaptable — he  has  every  faculty  of  the 
white  man.  A  great  number  of  his  race  are 


HOME    AGAIN— RACE   PROBLEM        249 

themselves  partly  white.  Then  let  the  white 
man  help  him  to  organize  along  these  lines,  and 
he  will  help  himself  and  help  the  white  man, 
too;  and  forming  a  social  aristocracy  of  his 
own,  like  the  Jew,  he  will  have  no  need  or  desire 
for  social  recognition  by  the  aristocracy  of  the 
white  Christian,  just  as  the  Jew  has  none. 

Let  us  help  him  to  open  up  more  expedi- 
tiously  those  fields  of  labor  and  mechanical  skill, 
of  clerical  and  sales  activities,  of  trades  and 
professions,  from  which  he  is  temporarily 
barred,  by  making  it  possible  for  him  to  estab 
lish  in  each  of  them  independent  owning  cor 
porations  of  his  own  which  can  and  will  employ 
his  own  race,  after  they  have  been  properly 
taught  by  white  experts  in  each  line  taken  up, 
until  the  quality  of  their  workmanship  is  equal 
to  that  of  white  industrial  workers;  and  then 
their  products  will  sell  anywhere  on  their  own 
merits,  just  as  do  those  of  the  Jews.  The  man 
who  says  or  believes  that  the  Negroes  are  a  de 
graded  race,  and  always  will  be,  " there  isn't 
any  help  for  them,  and  you  can't  make  anything 
of  them  if  you  try!"  is  himself  hopelessly  be 
hind  the  times. 

But  beyond  all  this,  let  us  not  forget  that 
our  highest  prerogative  is  to  be  American  citi 
zens;  our  highest  ideal  to  improve  the  standard 
of  living  of  each  and  every  one  of  us;  our  high- 


250  ERIC  MAROTTE 

est  safety  to  hasten  the  homogeneity  of  our  nu 
merous  races  of  compatriots — and  that  the  Ne 
groes  have  come  to  stay,  and  must  be  reckoned 
with  in  all  these  respects.  Let  us  remember, 
too,  that  they  are  human  and  have  hearts  that 
suffer  and  minds  that  unconsciously  grope  to 
ward  higher  things,  and  that  poverty  without 
opportunity  is  akin  to  slavery. 

ABRAHAM  LINCOLN  was  kind  to  them — let 
us  be  kinder — He  would  wish  it.  A  race  for 
whose  bodily  freedom  so  many  brave  men 
fought  and  died,  so  many  noble  women  starved 
and  mourned  and  suffered ;  cannot  be  abandoned 
to  an  ignoble  fate  without  stultifying  ourselves 
and  Him,  remembering,  as  we  must,  the  incal 
culable  cost  and  sacrifice  at  which  our  fathers 
set  them  free. 

We  must  help  them  repay  that  tremendous 
gift  by  enabling  them,  through  our  advice  and 
assistance  and  planning,  to  become  of  far,  far 
greater  service,  both  to  themselves  and  our 
selves,  that  the  blood  of  our  fathers  and  our 
mother's  tears  shall  not  prove  to  have  been 
shed  in  vain.  We  should  keep  ever  before  us 
the  one  tangible,  logical,  economic,  selfish  fact, 
that  the  more  prosperous  we  can  aid  the  Ne 
groes  to  become,  the  more  benefit  will  come 
back  to  us  from  that  same  prosperity  we  help 
to  engender  in  them. 


HOME    AGAIN— RACE   PROBLEM        251 

The  constant,  unceasing,  increasing  tendency 
and  demand  of  all  races  and  conditions  of  men 
and  women  leads  now  towards  greater  financial 
and  legal  equality — greater  industrial  and  so 
cial  justice.  Within  the  cycle  of  the  last  few 
years  hundreds  of  new  commercial,  industrial, 
educational  and  professional  fields  have  been 
thrown  open  to  white  women,  especially  in  our 
own  country  of  the  United  States,  and  which 
must  indubitably  lead  to  universal  equal  suf 
frage  for  them,  as  it  has  already  done  locally 
in  several  states.  The  proletariat  of  every  na 
tion  is  now  rising  and  demanding,  and  over 
turning  the  deadening  sod  of  indifference  to 
their  wants  and  desires  and  aspirations  which 
has  long  kept  them  buried  in  social  oblivion. 
Separated  yet  simultaneously,  they  are  all  striv 
ing  together  towards  a  new  birth  of  Freedom. 
And  in  these  days  of  quick  transit  and  light 
ning-swift,  far-flung  dissemination  of  the  daily 
news  of  the  world,  les  miserables  of  each  coun 
try  are  learning  of  the  quickened  struggles  of 
their  submerged  contemporaries  in  every  other 
country — are  comparing  notes  and  urging  each 
other  on  in  the  good  work.  And  so,  happily, 
the  mental  uprising  will  continue  till  men  are 
sufficiently  civilized  and  human  to  do  justice 
without  being  forced  at  the  point  of  the  bay 
onet. 


252  ERIC  MAROTTE 

Can  we  consistently  expect  the  Negro  not  to 
be  warmed,  if  not  inflamed,  by  this  same  spirit 
of  unrest  and  uplift — that  is  in  the  very  air  we 
breathe? 

Although  the  North  American  Negroes  now 
are  but  a  race,  and  not  an  autonomous  nation 
by  themselves,  they  cannot  be  left  behind  by  us 
in  the  general  march  of  advance  of  all  mankind. 
Our  American  body  politic  cannot  now  be,  and 
continue  increasingly  to  become,  healthy,  vig 
orous  and  truly  progressive  so  long  as  it  per 
mits  a  single  member  of  its  composing  races  to 
lag  behind  in  sickness  of  spirit,  paucity  of  op 
portunity  and  comparative  retrogression  of  con 
dition.  We  are  one  and  indivisible  in  the  great 
order  of  creation  and  humanity;  and  "progress 
is  inevitable!" 

And  it  is  altogether  better  and  safer  and 
more  profitable  to  act  the  "good  Samaritan " 
towards  the  Negro  now,  than  to  delay  until  that 
course  is  forced  upon  us  by  our  own  need  of 
their  salvation — what  time  it  is  forcibly  borne 
in  upon  us  that,  even  in  the  human  sense,  "a 
chain  is  only  as  strong  as  its  weakest  link." 

The  history  of  all  unprogressive  countries, 
and  that  of  our  own  Southern  States,  is  a  per 
petually  reiterated  lesson  to  us  that  the  nation 
which  neglects  its  dependents  neglects  itself. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  BUM 

>OHN'S  own  secret  misery  during  these 
two  years  had  the  purifying  and  ennob 
ling  result  of  opening  his  heart  to  the 
misfortunes  and  disabilities  of  others 
who,  financially  at  least,  were  more  to  be  pitied 
than  himself;  and  a  fellow-feeling  for  their  un- 
happiness  and  haunting  want  caused  him  to 
watch  out  for  chances  to  help  such  of  them  as 
he  incidentally  ran  across,  and  even  to  hunt 
up  cases  of  unusual  and  unmerited  destitution. 
Such  outright  charity  and  such  temporary 
aid  to  struggling  honesty  and  effort  as  he  could 
afford,  he  did  not  trust  to  the  cold  indifference, 
hostile  and  untactful  red  tape  and  grafting 
favoritism  of  paid  employees  of  charity  organ 
izations,  as  is  commonly  done  by  the  rich  today, 
but  preferred  to  dispense  unheralded  and  with 
his  own  hands  and  judgment.  Thus  he  saved 
his  beneficiaries  from  the  shame  of  publicity 
and  from  the  prying,  classifying,  common-level 
ing,  indiscriminating,  lie-breeding  methods  of 
the  semi-public  charitable  societies,  whose  op 
erating  expenses  and  salaries  often  eat  up  half 
the  contributions  received,  before  they  reached 
their  supposed  recipients. 

253 


254  ERIC  MABOTTE 

Wise  private  and  personal  application  of 
humanitarianism  is  as  much  better  in  its  effects 
upon  the  really  deserving,  as  much  more  pre 
ferred  and  as  much  less  dreaded  by  those  who 
really  ought  to  be  helped,  than  is  organized 
charity,  as  the  latter  is  less  dreaded  and  more 
preferred  than  the  "county  agent,"  dispenser 
(?)  of  the  city's  appropriations  for  charitable 
purposes — the  necessity  of  having  to  turn  to 
whom  for  help  is  in  turn  less  distressing  and 
disgracing  than  practical  imprisonment  and  the 
separation  of  man  and  wife  in  the  county  poor 
house  (half  filled  with  the  senilely  imbecile  and 
the  mildly  insane). 

In  personally  investigated  and  personally 
aided  cases  of  partial  or  total  destitution  or  lack 
of  work,  the  philanthropically  inclined  give  not 
only  their  money  and  influence,  but  also  their 
time,  brains  and  sympathy — that  milk  of  human 
kindness — and  they  do  not  have  to  treat  all 
applicants  alike,  making  mere  machines  of  them 
selves  and  those  they  would  aid — as  is,  by  the 
way,  the  growing  tendency  of  corporations  and 
many  large  firms  to  do  now  in  their  dealings 
with  and  rules  for  their  employees  and  custom 
ers  in  their  mercenary  attempts  to  eliminate 
the  human  equation  from  business.  This  at 
tempted  destruction  of  personality  may  go  on, 


THE  BUM  255 

but  it  will  some  day  react  upon  these  econo 
mizers  of  smiles. 

One  rainy  night  in  the  cold  spring  of  the  sec 
ond  year  of  John's  manufacturing  apprentice 
ship,  he  had  dined  down-town  with  a  former 
college  class-mate  who  was  taking  a  late  train 
out  of  the  city. 

After  seeing  his  friend  off  at  the  Lake  Shore 
and  Michigan  Southern  Railway  station  in  Van 
Buren  street,  he  had  walked  east  to  Clark  street 
on  his  way  to  the  street  car,  when  his  attention 
was  attracted  by  the  peculiar  actions  and  mis 
erable  plight  of  a  middle-aged  man  standing 
at  the  outside  edge  of  the  sidewalk  on  the  cor 
ner,  unsheltered  from  the  slowly-driving  rain. 
The  man  was  raggedly  dressed,  with  broken 
shoes,  a  battered  derby  hat  and  no  overcoat; 
and  although  he  was  shivering  as  with  a  chill 
and  rocking  on  his  feet  in  drunken  weakness, 
he  made  no  move  to  get  under  cover  from  the 
inclement  weather;  but  every  minute  or  two 
he  would  plunge  out  into  the  street  from  the 
raised  sidewalk,  and  then  invariably  hesitate, 
with  the  vacillation  of  intoxication,  and  return 
to  his  former  position  on  the  sidewalk.  He  was 
eating  something  he  extracted  in  broken  pieces 
from  a  dirty  paper  bag  in  a  desultory  way,  and 
gazing  straight  ahead,  unmindful  of  his  sur 
roundings  and  occasional  curious  observers. 


256  EEIC  MAROTTE 

John  backed  up  against  a  lighted  show-win 
dow  and  stood  there,  under  his  umbrella,  for 
several  minutes,  fascinated  by  the  danger  the 
besotted  brute  tempted  of  being  run  over  by 
street  cars  or  wagons  in  his  repeated  "sortees" 
into  the  street;  his  ready  sympathy  quickening 
for  the  poor  devil  as  he  perceived  that  no  one 
else  glanced  at  him  a  second  time  or  made  any 
motion  towards  taking  him  in  hand. 

Crossing  the  street  to  the  diagonally  oppo 
site  corner,  John  approached  a  policeman  sta 
tioned  there  like  a  " fixed  star/'  and  in  a  quiet 
manner  called  his  official  heeding  to  the  drunken 
man's  dangerous  condition  and  situation.  The 
"cop"  merely  shrugged  his  shoulders,  saying: 

"Shure,  he  don't  want  me  to  'run  him  in'; 
he's  all  right— just  a  little  'biled,'  that's  all; 
say!  you  must  be  a  grane  one  aroun'  here,  or 
you'd  know  this  strate  is  full  of  'barrel-house' 
bums  like  him.  I  cud  fill  ther  whole  domned 
station  wid  'em!  But  what  'ud  be  the  use? — 
they've  got  no  money  to  pay  ther  jedge  wid. 
Lave  him  be!  I  need  me  beauty  slape  in  ther 
morning,  and  can't  stay  up  till  noon  hanging 
aroun '  ther  durthy  coort  rooms  to  appear  agin ' 
the  likes  o'  him.  G'wan  now!  there's  nawthin' 
in  it!" 

John,  thinking  the  roundsman  probably 
spoke  out  of  the  wisdom  of  experience,  retraced 


THE  BUM  257 

his  steps,  and,  going  into  the  corner  store,  asked 
a  clerk  to  change  a  five-dollar  bill  for  him.  At 
the  man's  askant  look  he  explained  that  he 
wanted  the  change  so  he  could  give  something 
to  the  human  derelict  outside,  pointing  him 
out  to  the  clerk  at  the  same  time.  The  latter 
smiled  ironically  and  shook  his  head,  remon 
strating  that  it  was  a  common  sight  there  and 
that  the  man  was,  no  doubt,  a  "dope  fiend, M 
to  whom  money  would  do  no  good.  In  spite 
of  this  second  admonition  that  he  was  only 
throwing  away  his  time  and  money,  John  re 
mained  on  the  corner  watching  the  pitiable 
creature  for  fully  ten  minutes.  Then,  just  as 
he  had  about  made  up  his  mind  to  touch  his 
sleeve  and  accost  him  in  words,  the  man  made 
another  lurch  back  into  the  roadway,  and  this 
time  continued  across  to  the  other  side  of  Clark 
street. 

John  followed  him  south  on  his  own  side  of 
the  street  until  he  saw  him  climbing  the  long 
inside  front  steps  of  a  fifteen-cent  lodging  house, 
where  he  fell  exhausted  halfway  up.  Some  fate 
ful  impulse — some  unaccountable  interest 
stronger  than  simple  compassion,  in  this  par 
ticular  bum — led  John  to  cross  over  and  assist 
him  up  to  the  dingy  office  of  the  '  '  hotel. ' '  There 
he  asked  the  coatless,  pipe-smoking  clerk  in 
charge  to  let  him  occupy  one  of  the  "horse- 


258  ERIC  MAROTTE 

stall"  bed-rooms,  and  guaranteed  his  small  bill, 
remarking  that  he  would  call  there  again  next 
evening  to  talk  with  the  tramp. 

The  clerk  grumpily  hustled  his  new  guest  off 
to  bed  without  deeming  it  worth  while  to  ask 
him  if  he  had  any  "  valuables "  to  deposit  in 
the  office  safe.  The  sodden  mass  of  limp  human 
ity  had  not  uttered  a  word  of  either  thanks  or 
remonstrance  during  these  proceedings,  but  ac 
quiesced  in  them  in  a  dumb  brute  way.  He  did 
not  even  look  at  John  as  the  clerk  conducted 
him  up  a  second  flight  of  uncarpeted  stairs. 
The  latter  waited  for  the  clerk's  return,  when 
he  handed  him  a  silver  dollar  for  food  for  his 
"  protege, "  and  requested  him  to  tell  him  in 
the  morning,  or  have  him  told  by  the  day  clerk, 
that  it  would  be  well,  for  his  own  sake,  to  sober 
up  before  he  saw  him  again. 

When  John  once  more  entered  the  low  room 
ing  house,  early  on  the  following  night,  he 
found  his  man  up  and  "  dressed "  and  seated 
in  a  soiled,  high-backed,  wooden  office  chair, 
amusing  himself  by  looking  out  into  the  well- 
lighted  and  well-thronged  street.  He  appeared 
to  be  in  a  reasonably  sober  state  (for  him)  and 
turned  to  John  expectantly  and  questioningly 
when  he  pulled  up  a  chair  alongside  of  him 
and  asked  him  "How  he  felt  now?"  After  a 
few  commonplace  remarks,  John  asked  him, 


THE  BUM  259 

casually  raising  his  eyes  to  the  office  clock, 
"if  he  felt  like  taking  a  bite  of  something  yet; 
or  whether  his  stomach  was  still  too  weak  to 
hold  < solid'  food."  This  he  did  in  the  hope  of 
inducing  him  to  let  him  escort  him  to  some  mod 
erate-priced  restaurant  in  the  vicinity,  where 
they  might  secure  a  table  all  by  themselves  and 
talk  confidentially;  for  he  wished  to  learn,  if  he 
could,  the  man's  history  and  plans,  if  any,  for 
the  future,  before  deciding  what  to  do  for  him. 
The  bum  was  now  hungry,  for  a  wonder,  and 
presently  the  two  found  themselves  seated  at 
one  of  the  few  small  tables  in  a  sparsely-filled 
lunch  room  a  block  away,  where  John  ordered 
a  "slaughter-in-the-pan"  (hash-house  steak) 
and  "draw-one"  (cup  of  muddy  coffee)  for  his 
companion,  nibbling  on  an  emaciated,  cadaver 
ous  slice  of  pie  himself  as  he  waited  for  him  to 
fill  up  and  grow  "mellow."  John  did  not  "use 
the  filthy  weed,"  but  ordered  more  coffee  and 
a  couple  of  "stinkers"  (rank  cigars)  for  the 
other  when  he  had  done  "stowing  the  grub"; 
and  after  a  dozen  solacing  puffs  on  "the  big 
cigar  of  the  Havana,"  the  prodigal  began  of 
his  own  accord  the  story  of  his  life.  Most  of 
the  tale  was  prosaic  and  sorry  enough,  the  com 
mon  story  of  the  average  "has  been"  of  the 
underworld,  but  one  strange  adventure  in  it  was 
out  of  the  ordinary  and  held  John  spell-bound 


260  ERIC  MAROTTE 

throughout  its  entire  recital.  Divested  of  as 
much  as  possible  of  the  idiom  in  which  the  man 
narrated  it,  a  conglomerate  mixture  of  Ameri 
can  slang,  French-Canadian  patois  and  half- 
breed  Indian  dialect,  this  long  but  remarkable 
chapter  of  his  history  ran  as  follows: 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  BUM'S  LONG  TALE  OF  HIS  REMARKABLE 
ADVENTURE 

DBOUT  twenty-one  to  twenty-two 
years  ago  I  was  a  frontiersman  in 
Middle-Western  Canada.  I  had 
saved  a  little  money  (principally 
because  I  had  no  chance  to  spend 
it  there),  and  was  plodding  along  comfortably 
enough  in  a  rough  way,  when  I  became  in 
fatuated  with  a  woman,  whose  name  would  not 
interest  you  (one  of  those  few  of  her  sex  who 
had  drifted  that  far  west),  and  who,  while 
claiming  to  have  independent  means  of  her  own, 
was  secretly  a  courtesan,  as  I  found  out  later. 
She  was,  in  the  very  nature  of  the  circumstances, 
much  sought  after  by  the  ignorant  and  lone 
some  men  around  her,  but  she  pretended  to 
give  my  attentions  the  preference  over  all 
others.  I  was  quite  young  then,  barely  of  age, 
and  had  had  little  experience  with  women  of 
her  sort,  or  of  any  sort  for  that  matter;  so  I 
believed  all  she  told  me,  just  as  she  had  in 
tended  I  should  do. 

'  '  There  was  one  particularly  obnoxious  bully 
in  the  little  settlement,  however,  to  whom  she 

261 


262  ERIC  MAROTTE 

had  evidently  permitted  still  greater  personal 
liberties  with  herself  than  she  allowed  me;  and 
we,  as  rough  men  will,  began  to  eye  each  other 
like  two  rival  bucks  coveting  the  same  doe. 

"To  make  a  long  story  short,  this  bully,  as  I 
supposed,  shot  at  me  from  ambush  one  dark 
night  in  late  winter.  I  was  unarmed  at  the 
time.  I  had  long  suspected  him  of  some  such 
cowardly  intention,  from  his  bragging  and  slur 
ring  talk  about  me  among  the  other  men,  and 
I  knew  I  had  no  other  enemy  there,  so  I  in 
stantly  concluded  it  was  he  who  fired  the  shot; 
and  when  I  found  I  was  not  hit  by  his  bullets, 
I  thought  quickly  and  dropped  to  the  ground 
as  though  dead — played  ' possum'  in  fact.  I 
was  partially  covered  by  the  low  thicket  where 
I  fell,  but  knew  that  he  dared  not  approach  me 
to  see  how  badly  I  might  be  wounded  for  fear 
of  disclosing  his  own  identity. 

"I  heard  him  making  his  way  cautiously 
out  of  the  woods  and  towards  the  settlement; 
still  I  lay  there  for  another  half  hour,  waiting 
to  learn  whether  anyone  else  had  heard  the  shot; 
but  no  one  came  near  me.  Then  I  got  up 
stealthily  and  turned  off  in  the  opposite  direc 
tion.  After  a  couple  of  hours '  tramp  I  reached 
the  camp  of  a  half-breed  Indian  trapper,  about 
ten  miles  to  the  southeast,  whom  I  had  be 
friended  on  several  occasions  and  in  whose 


THE  BUM'S  LONG  TALE  263 

friendship  and  secrecy  I  felt  I  could  trust.  He 
was,  fortunately,  in  camp,  and  took  me  in  with 
little  explanation  on  my  part,  agreeing  to  se 
crete  me  there  for  a  couple  of  days,  until  my 
plans  ripened. 

"  There  was  little  or  no  legal  justice  to  be 
had  in  that  wilderness  in  those  early  pioneering 
days,  except  for  such  public  opinion  as  might 
express  itself  through  brute  force  or  the  swing 
ing  rope,  and  I  knew  that  I  must  either  'get' 
my  enemy  or  let  him  'get'  me — or  one  of  us 
must  leave  the  immediate  neighborhood. 

"I  was  hot-blooded  by  nature  and,  besides, 
was  really  enamored  of  the  woman  who  was 
the  cause  of  all  the  trouble  between  us;  and  I 
determined  that  I  would  not  run  from  him,  but 
would  'get'  him  first,  as  according  to  the  crude 
ethics  of  that  place  and  date  his  attempt  upon 
my  life  amply  justified  me  in  taking  his,  and 
with  as  little  danger  as  possible  of  exposing  my 
own  connection  with  his  death. 

"Leaving  the  trapper's  hut  alone  on  the 
second  night  of  my  hiding,  I  entered  the  small 
wilderness  colony  unobserved  and  began  my 
vigils  for  a  chance  of  catching  the  bully  off 
his  guard.  I  figured  that  if  no  one  had  re 
ported  the  finding  of  my  dead  body  in  the  woods 
by  this  time,  he  would  have  been  more  than 
likely  to  go  back  to  the  scene  of  his  attempted 


264  ERIC  MAROTTE 

murder  to  make  sure  of  his  work — drawn  there, 
too,  perhaps,  by  that  magnetic  attraction  which 
is  said  to  compel  a  murderer,  even  against  his 
own  will  and  judgment,  to  return  to  the  fatal 
spot  where  his  crime  was  committed.  If  so, 
he  would  by  now,  of  course,  have  discovered 
there  the  absence  of  any  trace  of  my  corpse, 
and  would  at  once  conjecture  that  I  had  escaped 
alive  and  be  on  the  lookout  for  my  reprisal. 

"For  two  days  more  I  hid  in  the  outskirts, 
and  finally,  on  the  third  morning,  trailed  him 
into  the  timber  until  the  settlement  lay  beyond 
the  sound  of  a  gun-shot.  I  came  upon  him  just 
as  he  was  crossing  a  wide,  semi-circular  open 
ing  flanked  by  the  continuous  forest.  He  heard 
the  crackling  of  a  twig  under  my  foot,  and 
swung  around  on  his  heel  just  as  I  was  about 
to  emerge  from  the  edge  of  the  tree-line  behind 
him. 

"We  both  drew  and  fired  at  the  same  instant, 
but  he  carried  only  a  large  revolver,  while  I  was 
'  toting '  a  rifle.  Two  shots  rang  out  in  the  open 
ing;  I  felt  his  ball  tearing  through  my  left 
sleeve,  grazing  my  arm,  and  instinctively  I 
jumped  for  a  protecting  tree-trunk.  Peering 
around  the  edge  of  my  shelter  warily  after  a 
minute  or  two,  I  saw  him  lying  prone  and  mo 
tionless  on  the  coarse  grass,  which  was  but 
thinly  covered  by  the  snow.  Holding  my  rifle 


THE  BUM'S  LONG  TALE  265 

in  firing  position  lest  he  be  only  feigning  un 
consciousness  in  order  to  entrap  me,  I  stepped 
slowly  and  vigilantly  towards  him,  until  I  could 
see  his  face  bathed  in  blood  and  his  revolver  re 
clining  a  few  feet  away,  where  it  had  slipped 
from  his  apparently  lifeless  hand.  I  went  up 
close  to  him  and  examined  his  body  hurriedly 
for  any  evidence  of  life,  but  found  none.  My 
bullet  had  entered  the  upper  part  of  his  fore 
head. 

"At  such  a  time  one  does  not  reason  ex 
haustively,  and  in  the  trepidation  and  fear  of 
pursuit  of  one  who  has  just  taken  the  life  of  a 
human  being,  I  turned  about  and  fled  the  fear 
some  spot.  I  kept  to  the  woods  all  that  day. 
The  night  came  on  early  and  dark;  there  were 
no  lamps  in  the  single  main  street  of  the  un 
couth  village,  and  I  haunted  its  environs  until 
my  reappearance  among  the  houses  should  be 
safe  from  discovery.  I  then  slunk  along  to  the 
back  door  of  the  one-story  affair  occupied  by 
the  'bold'  woman  whom  I  still  imagined  to  be 
in  love  with  me,  and  rapped  on  it  with  a  muf 
fled  hand. 

"She  came  to  the  door  in  her  night-dress 
and,  at  my  insistent  demands,  opened  it  just 
wide  enough  to  let  me  pass  in,  she  trembling 
in  terror  before  my  ghastly  face  and  stealthy 
movements  and  shifting  glances.  The  one  lamp 


266  ERIC  MAROTTE 

the  house  contained  was  turned  low  in  the  front 
room,  but  we  stood  together  in  the  semi-obscur 
ity  of  her  bed-room  while  I  rapidly  acquainted 
her  in  disconnected  whispers  with  the  tragic 
happenings  of  the  past  five  days  and  their  awful 
conclusion.  I  told  her  I  must  fly  at  once — that 
very  minute — for  the  United  States  border,  and 
implored  her,  as  she  loved  me,  to  follow  after 
me  later  and  meet  me  at  a  certain  street  and 
number  in  St.  Paul  where  an  old  'pal'  of  mine 
hung  out,  and  to  write  me  in  advance  of  her 
coming  if  she  could  find  a  way  to  get  the  letter 
off — addressed  to  me  under  cover  of  my  St.  Paul 
friend's  name. 

"She  clung  about  my  neck  in  her  deshabille 
and  kissed  me  passionately  and  cried,  and 
swore  by  all  that  was  holy  that  she  would 
neither  betray  me  nor  fail  to  join  me  a  week 
or  two  later;  and  she  made  into  a  bundle  what 
food  she  had  ready-cooked  in  the  house  and 
handed  it  to  me  for  my  flight. 

"  Being  a  natural  carpenter,  I  had  built  for 
myself  a  one-room  shack,  and  a  small  shed 
back  of  it  on  the  edge  of  a  narrow  gully;  in 
which  latter  crude  shelter  I  kept  a  small,  wiry, 
western  horse  for  which  I  had  several  months 
before  traded  with  a  wandering  Indian.  There 
were  no  locks  on  the  doors  of  any  of  the  rude 
buildings,  and  keeping  in  the  shadows  I  crept 


THE  BUM'S  LONG  TALE  267 

to  my  little  place  and  had  no  difficulty  in  get 
ting  into  it  unnoticed.  I  packed  up  in  a  hurry 
what  I  most  needed  to  take  with  me;  my  small 
store  of  money  I  always  carried  on  my  person. 
Going  quickly  to  the  shed,  I  found  the  pony 
had  been  well  provided  for  during  my  absence, 
as  in  so  small  a  community  all  the  horses  are 
individually  known,  and  are  remembered  prac 
tically  if  their  masters  fail  to  show  up  for 
twenty-four  hours.  Holding  my  nag  by  the 
nose  so  he  couldn't  whinny  his  delight  at  seeing 
me  again,  I  saddled  him  silently,  adjusted  my 
packs  to  his  back,  before  and  behind  the  sad 
dle,  and  led  him  into  the  narrow  depression 
behind  the  shed.  I  mounted  him,  and  holding 
him  down  to  a  walk  till  out  of  sight  and  hear 
ing  of  my  fellow-citizens,  was  soon  off  and 
away  along  the  back  trail  to  the  southeast  and 
Winnipeg.  I  hoped  to  make  that  important 
city  in  a  little  over  three  days,  and  to  dispose 
of  my  mount  there  and  pursue  the  rest  of  my 
journey  to  the  United  States  by  rail,  with  St. 
Paul  as  my  temporary  destination.  Beyond  that 
I  had  not  planned. 

"The  snow  was  not  deep,  as  the  spring  was 
nearly  due,  and  my  horse  was  half -wild  and  in 
ured  to  long  stages  of  traveling  through  his 
former  experience  as  an  Indian  mount.  The 
only  danger  I  had  really  to  guard  against  was 


268  ERIC  MAROTTB 

a  pursuit  by  a  posse  from  the  settlement  if 
the  body  of  the  slain  man  were  found  the  next 
day;  for  although  he  had  been  a  bully  and  a 
4  periodical  spreeV  and  was  more  than  suspect 
ed  of  cheating  at  cards,  he,  like  every  other 
man,  no  matter  how  bad,  had  his  friends,  flat 
terers  and  followers  among  his  own  kind,  and 
who  would  like  nothing  better  than  such  a 
chance  at  that  most  exciting  of  all  huntings — 
the  man-hunt — with  myself  for  their  quarry. 

"I  stayed  in  the  saddle  and  kept  the  pony 
moving  all  that  night  and  till  the  following 
noon,  then  hid  myself  and  my  horse  in  the 
heaviest  thicket  I  could  find  until  darkness 
again  descended  on  the  wild.  When,  seeing 
or  hearing  no  signs  of  a  pursuit,  I  remounted 
and  rode  on  throughout  the  night,  my  path 
lighted  by  the  whiteness  of  the  snow.  We  slept 
and  rested  half  the  next  day,  as  before.  Late 
on  the  third  night,  when  both  the  faithful  beast 
and  myself  were  becoming  fagged  out  with  the 
long,  continuous  strain  (for  we  maintained  a 
quick  gait),  we  came  unexpectedly  upon  indica 
tions  of  a  new  lumbering  centre,  and  I  stopped 
to  reconnoiter  before  proceeding  further.  I  had 
purposely  avoided  inhabited  localities  and  the 
Canadian  mounted  police,  so  that  no  news  of 
my  passing  could  reach  my  probable  pursuers. 
(The  first  night  out  I  had  turned  back  on  my 


THE  BUM'S  LONG  TALE  269 

tracks  and  gone  around  in  a  circuitous,  irregu 
lar  way  to  put  them  off  my  trail  as  best  I 
could.) 

"Now,  waiting  till  past  midnight,  I  guided 
my  horse  into  a  long  ravine  in  order  to  avoid 
the  loggers'  camp  and  get  by  it  unseen.  A 
heavy  fall  of  snow  had  already  begun,  the  first 
since  I  began  my  escape,  with  a  fairly  brisk 
wind  blowing;  and  I  calculated  that  the  new 
snow  would  drift  into  this  ravine  and  com 
pletely  cover  my  trail  before  sunrise.  I  was 
riding  along  carefully,  threading  my  way 
through  and  around  the  obstructing  bushes  and 
stones,  and  had  covered  about  half  the  length 
of  the  ravine,  when  my  fear-sharpened  ears 
caught  a  low  sound.  Looking  up  to  the  left 
in  the  direction  from  which  it  seemed  to  come, 
I  beheld  a  dark  object,  like  a  heavy  man 
wrapped  in  furs  and  looking  right  at  me,  dimly 
outlined  on  the  snow,  at  the  edge  of  the  hollow 
and  just  above  me. 

"I  awaited  gun-in-hand  the  anticipated  chal 
lenge,  but  none  was  given.  I  slid  to  the  ground 
on  the  opposite  side  of  my  pony  and  edged 
intermittently  and  with  crafty  caution  up  the 
incline  of  the  farther  bank,  screening  myself, 
as  I  proceeded,  behind  the  wild  shrubbery.  Soon 
I  was  nearly  on  a  level  with  the  dark  object, 
which,  so  far,  had  not  moved.  Suddenly  it 


270  ERIC  MABOTTE 

dropped  to  all  fours  and  disappeared  around 
a  large  boulder  nearly  as  tall  as  a  man.  I 
breathed  a  great  sigh  of  relief,  for  in  that  in 
stant  I  comprehended  that  it  was  not  a  man  at 
all,  but  a  good-sized  bear. 

"It  was  out  of  the  question  to  fire  at  it 
and  thus  awaken  the  whole  camp,  which  could 
not  be  far  away,  and  I  was  fully  content  to 
leave  'Mrs.  Bruin '  alone  if  she  would  me;  but 
I  crossed  over  to  her  side  a  couple  of  hundred 
yards  lower  down  the  gulch,  merely  out  of 
curiosity  as  to  her  unaccountable  instantane 
ous  disappearance.  There  was  the  boulder  all 
right,  but  no  bear  anywhere  near  it  and  no  beau 
tracks  leading  away  from  it.  While  I  was  cud 
geling  my  befogged  brains  for  a  plausible  so 
lution  of  the  strange  phenomenon,  I  happened 
to  gaze  away  in  another  direction  for  a  few 
seconds.  When  I  turned  to  scrutinize  the  big 
boulder  again,  there  was  the  bear  once  more — 
dropped  down  from  nowhere! 

"It  was  eerie  and  got  on  my  nerves,  so  that 
I  gave  voice  to  my  astonishment  and  wonder 
in  an  unrestrainable  l — Hell!'  The  bear  heard 
me  and  instantly  took  fright,  and  scampered 
away  towards  the  heavier  growth  of  timber, 
closely  followed  by  two  little  cubs,  which,  also, 
appeared  suddenly  out  of  clear  space.  I  went 
up  to  the  heavy,  perpendicular  stone  and 


THE  BUM'S  LONG  TALE  271 

stepped  all  around  it,  examining  it  carefully, 
but  could  perceive  no  aperture  in  it,  nor  in 
the  ground  adjacent  to  it.  In  moving  about  it, 
though,  in  the  semi-luminosity  of  the  reflect 
ing  snow,  I  undesignedly  traced  its  outlines 
with  my  hands;  and  at  one  point  in  the  circle 
of  my  investigation,  I  thought  I  felt  the  mass 
stir  to  my  touch.  Pressing  repeatedly  on  the 
boulder  at  that  point  with  both  hands,  I  found 
I  could  displace  it  readily;  but  it  always  rolled 
back  gently  to  its  original  position — it  was  a 
'rocking  stone M 

1  i  Just  then  I  heard  a  faint,  distant,  human 
cry,  and  bolstering  up  the  huge  stone  with  a 
broken  tree-bough,  I  could  discern  a  narrow 
opening  beneath  it  and  leading  into  a  natural 
fissure  in  the  rocky  bank.  I  listened  carefully, 
and  the  sound  was  repeated;  it  came  to  me 
like  the  smothered  cry  of  an  infant. 

"  Utterly  dumbfounded  by  this  new,  further 
mystifying  phase  of  my  adventure,  I  struck  a 
match  and  held  it  at  arm's-length  inside  the 
hole  to  see  how  the  fissure  ran.  Satisfied  that 
it  was  not  deep,  I  let  myself  down  into  it  feet- 
first.  I  found  I  was  able  to  touch  bottom  with 
out  releasing  my  grasp  on  the  ground  above. 
Encouraged  by  this,  I  let  go  and  got  down  on 
my  hands  and  knees,  and  crawled  along  the 
cave-like,  covered,  natural  cut  into  the  interior 


272  ERIC  MAROTTE 

of  the  solid  bank.  Arriving  at  its  innermost 
recess,  I  groped  about  until  my  hands  came  in 
contact  with  some  woolen  texture  that  seemed 
to  move.  Striking  another  match,  I  nearly  fell 
over  on  beholding  the  astounding  sight  its  light 
revealed.  Here,  in  this  undiscoverable  bear's 
retreat,  lying  on  its  back  and  blinking  at  the 
burning  match,  was  a  living  baby! 

"I  could  scarcely  credit  my  own  senses,  but 
had  the  presence  of  mind  to  gather  up  the  in 
fant  tenderly  and  work  my  way  out  with  it 
into  the  air  again.  It  had  no  outer  wraps,  but 
was  otherwise  warmly  dressed.  However,  I 
protected  it  against  the  abrupt  change  in  tem 
perature,  on  passing  from  the  bear's  den  to  the 
outside  air,  by  covering  it  with  the  folds  of 
my  heavy  buffalo  skin  overcoat  (these  coats 
were  common  then).  I  removed  and  threw  away 
the  supporting  bough  and  let  the  'rocking- 
stone'  fall  back  into  its  normal  position,  where 
it  effectually  concealed  the  bear's  lair. 

"I  was  in  such  a  horrible  quandary  that  I 
almost  forgot  my  own  serious  predicament.  I 
knew  not  which  way  to  turn.  If  I  left  the 
child  there,  it  would  die  of  exposure  and  starva 
tion.  If  I  sought  the  logging  camp  clearing 
to  return  it  to  its  probably  agonized  parents, 
I  would  gravely  endanger  my  own  freedom — 
perhaps  be  caught  and  hanged  by  the  posse 


THE  BUM'S  LONG  TALE  273 

through  the  clew  I  must  necessarily  leave  be 
hind  me  there.  If  I  took  it  with  me  on  my 
lone  journey,  how  could  I  feed  it  at  its  tender 
age? 

"I  wondered  how  long  it  could  have  lain 
hidden  in  the  bear's  underground  home  and 
how  it  had  been  kept  from  starving.  Until, 
in  passing  my  hands  over  its  face,  I  discov 
ered  what  looked  and  felt  like  traces  of  milk 
on  the  corners  of  its  little  mouth.  I  recollected 
then  a  legend  I  once  heard  in  my  boyhood's 
days  of  two  afterwards  famous  characters  hav 
ing  been  once  suckled  by  a  she-wolf  (Romulus 
and  Remus,  I  think  they  were  called) — I  had 
once  seen  a  picture  of  them  and  the  wolf  in 
some  old  book,  too.  Maybe  this  animal  who 
had  adopted  the  baby  was  an  escaped  trained 
bear — maybe  I  was  so  wrought  up  I  was  '  nutty. ' 
I  finally  gave  up  trying  to  'dope  it  out.'  But 
there  was  the  baby  all  unhurt  and  with  no  visi 
ble  symptoms  of  hunger  about  it,  there  was 
no  doubt  of  that  much.  This  heartened  me  up 
quite  a  bit,  especially  as  the  kid  seemed  to 
trust  me  completely  and  clung  to  me,  like  T 
was  its  own  father,  only  crying  a  little  and 
softly,  as  though  it  had  already  cried  so  much 
it  could  cry  no  more.  I  made  up  my  mind, 
since  the  babe  couldn't  talk  and  tell  me  where 
it  lived,  and  it  looked  strong  and  healthy,  that 


274  ERIC  MAROTTE 

it  was  safest  and  best  to  take  it  along  with  me, 
at  least  as  far  as  Winnipeg,  where  I  could,  no 
doubt,  arrange  to  have  it  properly  cared  for 
till  I  had  made  my  own  ' get-away.'  Later  I 
would  think  up  some  way  to  bring  about  its 
triumphant  return  to  its  unexpectant  parents. 
I  even  mused  happily  and  humorously  over 
their  wide-eyed  wonderment  and  bubbling  grat 
itude — when  it  should  be  placed  in  their  dis 
tracted  arms  again.  The  whole  affair  would 
beat  a  dime  novel  story ! — what  the  English  call 
a  'penny-dreadful.' 

"I  wrapped  the  baby  warmly  in  my  blanket 
and  placed  it  on  the  saddle  in  front  of  me  and 
resumed  with  it  my  tedious  journey.  I  occa 
sionally  stopped  to  give  it  water,  and  I  allowed 
it  to  munch  a  little  dry  bread  crumbs  as  we 
went  along.  When  I  stopped  at  noon  of  the 
next  day  I  knew,  from  our  position,  that  we 
could  make  Winnipeg  during  the  second  night 
following.  I  overhauled  my  diminishing  supply 
of  grub  and  found  an  unopened  tin  of  extract 
of  beef  (in  the  bundle  I  got  from  the  woman). 
I  lighted  a  small  fire  among  the  trees,  where 
its  smoke  would  not  be  seen,  and  boiling  a  tin- 
cupful  of  water  over  it,  dropped  extract  into 
it  a  bit  at  a  time  till  I  had  a  mild  beef  tea, 
which  I  hoped  the  kid  could  digest.  It  was 
that  or  starve  for  it,  anyhow.  It  seemed  to 


THE  BUM'S  LONG  TALE  275 

work  all  right,  for  the  baby  sipped  it  all  grate 
fully  and  grinned  at  me.  So  now  I  had  solved 
the  puzzle  of  feeding  it,  and  was  overjoyed  at 
my  own  ingenuity.  The  weather  grew  milder, 
with  the  tang  of  spring  in  the  air,  and  the  suc 
ceeding  twenty-four  hours  passed  uneventfully. 
"On  the  last  stretch,  nearing  Winnipeg,  I 
spurred  my  weary  nag  to  a  livelier  gate,  as  I 
did  not  want  to  make  the  child  sleep  out  in 
the  open  another  night.  A  fellow  who  knows 
nothing  about  babies  is  more  afraid  of  handling 
them  than  of  nursing  rattle- snakes.  It  was 
about  ten  o'clock  at  night  when  we  finally 
struck  the  city's  outskirts  (it  was  of  only  about 
fifteen  thousand  population  then),  and  within  a 
half  hour  after  that  I  had  put  up  the  horse, 
which  was  about  ready  to  drop,  at  a  small  out- 
of-the-way  roadside  tavern  sporting  a  bar  and 
a  barn.  (The  ordinances  of  many  Canadian 
cities  require  all  licensed  saloons  to  provide  at 
least  twelve  sleeping  rooms  and  a  stable  for 
wayfarers  and  their  beasts  of  burden).  I  turned 
over  the  baby,  in  apple  pie  order  and  sound 
asleep,  to  the  landlord's  matronly  wife  and 
helpmate,  saying  I  would  explain  things  in  the 
morning.  They  gave  me  plenty  of  hot  coffee 
(which  I  hadn't  tasted  in  two  days)  and  set  out 
such  cold  'vittles'  as  they  could  scrape  up  at 
that  unconventional  hour;  but  I  was  about  all 


276  ERIC  MAROTTE 

in;  and  leaving  the  baby  in  the  motherly  hands 
of  the  old  woman,  I  followed  the  landlord  with 
a  candle  to  a  small,  coarsely  furnished  cubby 
hole  of  a  bed-room,  and  in  five  minutes  forgot 
the  world  and  all  my  troubles  in  the  care-for 
getting,  perfect  sleep  of  physical  and  mental 
exhaustion.  I  didn't  even  dream. 

"I  had  requested  'mine  host'  not  to  call  me 
till  ten  o'clock,  and  I  slept  through  the  night 
and  early  morning  without  awaking,  until  he 
pounded  on  my  door.  They  had  saved  some 
breakfast  in  the  stove-oven  for  me  and  added 
more  hot  coffee  and  a  pile  of  steaming  *  flap 
jacks.  '  Eested  and  refreshed,  I  plunged  at  once 
into  my  preparations  for  taking  up  again  the 
thread  of  my  enforced  trip  to  the  United 
States.  I  gave  my  low-browed,  cunning, 
French-Canadian  host  a  'song  and  dance'  about 
taking  the  baby  from  its  mother  in  the  North 
west  to  its  grandmother  in  the  States  because 
the  mother  felt  she  could  not  bring  it  up  prop 
erly  so  far  from  civilization;  and  I  ensured  his 
silence  in  regard  to  my  presence  at  his  hotel 
in  a  more  practical  way  by  hinting  that  my 
horse  was  a  stolen  one  and  selling  it  to  him 
for  less  than  half  its  value.  The  cute  little 
baby  was  turned  up  fresh  and  cooing;  and  as  I 
dared  not  stop  here,  on  Canadian  soil,  long 
enough  to  arrange  for  its  return  to  its  parents, 


THE  BUM'S  LONG  TALE      277 

I  decided  to  take  it  on  with  me  to  St.  Paul 
and  try  to  locate  its  home  by  mail  before  '  ship 
ping'  it  back  there. 

"I  sent  the  proprietor's  wife  down  on  Main 
street,  which  even  then  had  begun  to  stand  out 
boldly  in  the  impressiveness  of  its  great  width, 
to  buy  an  outside  coat  and  such  additional 
1  duds'  as  she  thought  the  baby  needed  for  im 
mediate  wear;  and  in  a  few  hours  we  were 
aboard  a  day-coach  on  the  train  running  south 
east  to  St.  Paul,  some  eight  hundred  miles  away. 

"From  the  first  the  baby  had  shown  no  fear 
of  me,  but  appeared  to  accept  my  presence  and 
caresses  as  a  matter  of  course,  simply  eyeing 
me  wistfully  and  whimpering  now  and  then. 
It  had  probably  spent  all  of  its  young  life  in 
the  woods,  surrounded  and  worshiped  by  the 
rough  logging  crew,  and  so  was  used  to  men's 
faces  and  friendly  attentions.  I  kept  telling  it 
I  was  taking  it  to  'mama,'  which  word  it 
seemed  to  understand,  although  it  couldn't  talk, 
but  just  gurgled  incomprehensible  things. 

"It  was  a  beautiful  little  boy,  perfectly 
formed  with  a  dark  French-Canadian  face,  but 
of  a  higher  type  so  far  as  its  features  were  yet 
shaped.  We  crossed  the  border  without  let  or 
hindrance,  and  I  began  to  breath  freely  for 
the  first  time.  I  relaxed  in  my  seat  and  I'm 
sure  my  eyes  must  have  lost  their  hunted,  shifty 


278  ERIC  MAROTTE 

look.  The  south-bound  cars  were  not  crowded 
like  those  going  north  with  immigrants  and 
settlers,  and  I  made  a  comfortable  couch  for 
the  baby  by  spreading  out  my  blanket  on  the 
reversed  seat  in  front  of  me  where  I  could 
keep  my  eye  on  it,  dozing  off  myself  at  inter 
vals  during  our  one  night  on  the  train,  which 
was  a  slow  local  carrying  one  through  day- 
coach.  We  arrived  in  St.  Paul  late  on  the  sec 
ond  night  and  stopped  at  a  cheap,  second  class 
hotel  down  by  the  depot  till  noon  of  the  next 
day.  In  so  large  a  city,  with  so  many  transients 
and  immigrant  families  and  parts  of  families 
passing  through  every  day  in  the  week,  we 
excited  no  suspicions  and  I  was  asked  no  em 
barrassing  questions  as  to  my  lone  possession 
of  so  young  a  child. 

"Meanwhile  I  had  sent  a  sealed  note  to  my 
'pal'  by  a  newsboy  I  ran  across  at  Third  and 
Wabasha  streets,  near  the  City  Hall,  telling 
where  we  were.  By  good  luck  he  happened  to 
be  at  home  late  that  morning,  and  he  came  to 
us  at  the  hotel  within  the  hour.  Half  an  hour's 
talk  between  us  put  him  in  possession  of  all 
the  facts  in  the  case  and  of  the  present  necessi 
ties  of  my  unusual  position.  Getting  into  a 
livery  rig  belonging  to  a  personal  friend  of  his 
who  could  keep  his  mouth  shut,  we  were  driven 
to  a  point  within  a  short  walk  of  his  little  story- 


THE  BUM'S  LONG  TALE  279 

and-a-half  frame  cottage.  Dismissing  the  rig 
there,  we  went  the  rest  of  the  way  on  foot. 
My  'pal'  had  married  since  I  had  last  seen  him, 
and  his  young  wife  made  a  big  fuss  over  the 
kiddie  and  got  * stuck  on'  him  at  sight;  so  his 
troubles  were  over  for  a  while. 

i '  I  had  not  shaved  since  my  impromptu  duel 
in  the  Northern  country,  and  now  kept  off  the 
street  in  the  day  time  until  my  beard  was  pretty 
well  grown.  It  changed  my  appearance  so 
much  I  hardly  recognized  myself  in  the  mirror. 
After  a  few  days,  as  I  had  received  no  word 
from  the  woman  who  was  to  follow  and  meet 
me  here,  I  began  to  grow  impatient,  and  my 
fears  to  revive. 

"Of  course  I  was  remorseful  and  despond 
ent,  but  the  fact  that  in  our  deadly  encounter 
the  bully  had  drawn  on  me  the  instant  he  saw 
me,  coupled  with  his  supposed  previous  attack 
on  me  from  ambush  and  my  natural  jealousy 
of  his  attentions  to  the  woman,  kept  me  from 
such  conscious-stricken  despair  as  might,  other 
wise,  have  overwhelmed  me.  I  was  not  a  'bad 
man'  and  this  was  my  first  serious  affray;  and 
I  tried  to  put  aside  my  depression  until  my 
sweetheart  should  come  and  fully  inform  me 
of  all  that  had  occurred  in  the  settlement  after 
I  skipped  out.  I  had  been  in  St.  Paul  over  a 
week  and  began  to  despair  of  her,  when  one 


280  ERIC  MAROTTE 

Saturday  afternoon  she  knocked  at  the  door 
of  the  cottage  and  asked  for  me. 

"My  friend's  wife  would  not  open  the  door 
till  I  had  surreptitiously  identified  her  through 
the  shutters  of  the  one  upper  window.  When 
I  saw  it  was  really  she,  I  went  down  and  let 
her  in  myself;  and  the  first  glimpse  I  got  ot" 
her  face  sent  a  thrill  of  relief  and  hope  through 
my  whole  being;  for  its  expression  showed  no 
mark  either  of  worry  or  of  fear  for  my  safety. 

"From  her  account  of  the  course  affairs  had 
taken  at  the  settlement  subsequent  to  my  flight, 
it  transpired  that  my  vanquished  enemy  had 
been  found,  early  on  the  morning  after  he  was 
shot,  by  two  timber  men  and  brought  home 
badly  injured,  but  not  dead  after  all,  and  on 
the  day  of  her  own  departure  he  was  considered 
out  of  danger,  although  he  was  delirious  most 
of  the  time.  In  a  lucid  interval  he  had  accused, 
not  me,  but  another  man,  of  twice  attempting 
his  murder  because  of  a  'fancied'  cheating  by 
him  in  a  card  game.  (I  learned  some  time 
afterwards  that  it  was  this  man,  and  not  my 
rival,  who  had  shot  at  me  in  the  dark,  mistak 
ing  me  for  the  bully).  What  the  woman  told 
me  lifted  the  double  load  of  dread  and  anguish 
off  my  heart,  since  I  had  neither  killed  a  fellow- 
man,  nor  was  I  being  hunted  as  his  assailant. 

"I  became  almost  gay,  and  did  not  sober 


THE  BUM'S  LONG  TALE  281 

down  again  until  my  turn  came  to  recount  the 
details  of  my  escape  and  my  adventure  with 
the  baby  and  to  explain  my  worry  over  the  task 
of  discovering  its  parents  and  getting  it  back 
into  their  hands  promptly.  This  task  was  not 
so  easily  performed  then  as  it  might  be  to-day. 
I  had  only  a  general  idea  of  the  locality  in 
which  I  had  found  it — enough,  maybe,  to  have 
enabled  me,  by  retracing  my  steps,  to  relocate 
it,  but  not  clear  enough  to  direct  another  search 
er  to  it  or  to  reach  it  by  letter.  And,  besides, 
if  the  infant  belonged  in  that  particular  camp, 
the  log-drive  had  been  started  by  this  time, 
and  the  camp  and  all  its  denizens  would  be  gone 
long  before  the  babe,  or  even  a  courier,  could 
be  gotten  there.  The  ownership  of  the  timber 
land  itself  might  give  no  safe  clue,  since  much 
of  the  tree-cutting  in  that  wild  country  was 
really  done  then  by  timber  thieves.  It  was 
impractical  to  take  the  child  along  on  a  per 
sonally-conducted  search,  and  the  wisest  course 
seemed  to  be  to  mail  a  letter  giving  all  known 
particulars  of  the  case  to  the  police  authorities 
at  Winnipeg  and  depend  upon  them  to  institute 
further  necessary  inquiries  and  searches. 

"But  this  proceeding  would  necessitate  my 
explaining  a  whole  lot  of  things  I  didn't  want 
raked  up — as  to  why  I  had  not  taken  the  child 
to  the  nearest  camp  at  once,  or  at  least  left  it 


282  ERIC  MAROTTE 

in  official  hands  at  Winnipeg;  how  I  came  to 
be  in  that  ravine  in  the  middle  of  a  stormy 
night  when  I  could  have  had  shelter  for  the 
asking,  etc.  I  would  have  gone  back  myself  in 
the  long  run,  but  the  woman  on  whose  account 
I  had  got  mixed  up  in  my  shooting  scrape  with 
the  bully,  would  not  hear  of  it,  protesting  that 
I  should  be  deserting  her  and  that  she  knew  I 
would  never  come  back  to  her  if  I  went.  Al 
ready  she  was  jealous  of  the  kid  and  disliked  to 
see  me  fondle  it.  You  know,  mister,  you  can't 
reason  with  a  woman  like  you  can  with  a  man ; 

'For  if  she  will  she  will,  you  may  depend  on't, 
And  if  she  won't  she  won't,  and  there's  an  end  on't'; 

as  some  old  poet  fellow  once  said. 

"Well,  nothing  at  all  was  done  about  the 
matter  for  another  week  or  so,  and  I  com 
menced  to  look  about  the  town  for  some  work 
to  do,  as  I  wanted  to  marry  the  woman.  To 
be  sure,  I  knew  nothing  about  her  past  life  or 
habits,  but  in  the  frontier  towns — in  such  sur 
roundings  as  those  in  which  I  had  first  met 
her,  questions  are  seldom  asked  or  answered  in 
regard  to  one's  previous  degree  of  servitude, 
for  fear  of  counter  questions.  She  had  me  go 
ing,  all  right,  with  her  flattery  and  'goo-goo 
eyes,'  and  that  was  enough  for  a  young  rough 
neck  like  me.  One  thing  about  her  I  had  no 
ticed,  and  commented  on  too,  however — that 


THE  BUM'S  LONG  TALE       283 

she  always  refused  beer  or  liquor  of  any  kind. 
I  once  asked  her  in  a  joking  way,  'how  long 
she  had  been  on  the  water  wagon/  and  was 
startled  by  her  sudden,  emotional  reply  that, 
'if  I  ever  saw  her  drinking  once  I'd  never  want 
to  see  her  again.'  I  did  not  take  her  outburst 
seriously  at  the  moment,  but  it  came  back  to 
me  laden  with  meaning  not  long  afterwards. 

"Along  in  the  third  week  after  the  coming 
of  the  woman  to  the  cottage  she  went  down 
town  one  morning  and  did  not  return  to  sup 
per,  nor  during  the  whole  night.  As  she  had  a 
few  old  acquaintances  of  her  own  in  both  St. 
Paul  and  Minneapolis,  we  concluded  she  had 
stopped  over  night  on  a  visit  to  some  one  of 
them,  although  she  had  taken  nothing  but  her 
usual  hand-bag  along  with  her.  But  when  she 
still  did  not  come  back  after  two  days  had 
passed  by,  I  became  really  alarmed,  as  I  was 
still  in  love  with  her,  and  started  looking  for 
her  in  the  retail  business  portion  of  the  city, 
where  the  most  street  cars  stopped  and  the 
largest  number  of  people  could  be  met  in  the 
shortest  time.  Next  day  I  went  to  Minneapolis, 
also,  and  patrolled  all  the  principal  down-town 
streets  there  between  the  river  and  Ninth  street. 
Here  I  ran  across  a  friend  of  my  'pal's'  who 
had  been  introduced  to  her  at  our  cottage,  and 
he  volunteered  the  information  that  he  was 


284  ERIC  MAROTTE 

pretty  sure  lie  had  seen  her  near  the  Nicollet 
Hotel,  then  the  leading  hostelry  of  the  city — 
just  before  the  then  new  West  Hotel  was 
erected. 

"So  I  stayed  over  in  Minneapolis  that  night 
and  continued  next  morning  my  walking  and 
watching  with  an  increasing  suspicion  of  some 
thing  being  wrong  with  her.  At  about  seven 
o'clock  that  evening  my  vigilance  was  reward 
ed  by  my  catching  sight  of  her  back  as  she 
was  entering  the  stairway  of  a  doubtful-looking 
transient  rooming,  or  bed-house,  on  Washing 
ton  avenue — a  little  ways  south  of  Nicollet  ave 
nue. 

"I  suppose  you  know  the  locality,  sir(f) — 
No?  Well,  it's  not  a  very  savory  one  even 
now,  but  then  it  was  a  pretty  bum  neighbor 
hood,  I  can  tell  you. 

"I  ran  after  her,  and  reached  the  entrance 
of  the  bed-house  so  promptly  that  I  saw  her 
pass  from  the  head  of  its  street  stairs  to  a  room 
half  way  down  the  hall.  Without  hesitation, 
I  went  up  and  knocked  at  her  door.  She  opened 
it,  looked  at  me  in  a  dazed  way  and  then,  ap 
pearing  to  recognize  me  suddenly,  threw  her 
arms  around  my  neck,  crying  out  in  a  maudlin 
voice:  'Blesh  hish  little  heart!  Did  he  come  to 
shee  hish  mommerT  She  was  dead  drunk! 

"I  was  too  thunderstruck  and  mortified  to 


THE  BUM'S  LONG  TALE  285 

answer  at  once,  and  all  my  pent-up  anxiety  for 
her  began  to  turn  to  loathing.  She  motioned 
me  to  a  chair  at  the  window  lighted  by  a  dirty 
air-shaft,  and  proceeded,  unabashed,  to  remove 
her  skirt  and  shirt-waist,  tearing  the  latter  in 
her  drunken  awkwardness.  Before  I  realized 
what  she  was  doing,  she  had  dropped  the  single, 
soiled,  cotton  underskirt  she  wore,  to  the  floor 
and  unhooked  her  corset  and  thrown  it  aside. 
She  seemed  to  have  forgotten  entirely  my  pres 
ence  in  the  room  as  she  fell  heavily  on  the  bed 
and  rolled  over  on  her  face  in  the  instantaneous 
sleep  of  intoxication.  The  spell  of  my  fasci 
nated  disgust  then  broke,  and,  as  she  moved  her 
body  into  an  easier  position,  I  tossed  over  her 
the  faded  '  comfort '  lying  at  the  foot  of  the  bed. 
She  now  lay  flat  on  her  back,  with  her  mouth 
open  and  exhaling  the  fetid  carbonic  oxide  of 
the  common  whiskey  sot.  A  half  emptied  pint 
bottle  of  cheap  whiskey  lay  under  her  pillow, 
and  her  lips  were  cracked  and  blackened,  as  if 
burnt  by  the  liquor  she  had  drunk  or  by  some 
narcotic,  poisonous  'dope.' 

' 1 1  stood  looking  at  her  a  few  minutes,  trying 
to  concentrate  my  thoughts  and  decide  upon 
some  course  of  action;  then  I  turned  down  low 
the  single  gas  jet,  threw  open  the  window,  and 
left  the  room  to  consult  the  frowsy,  flat-breast 
ed,  landlady  of  the  place.  That  beldame,  when 


286  ERIC  MAROTTE 

she  got  it  through  her  'nut'  that  I  was  willing 
to  become  responsible  for  the  payment  of  the 
woman's  room  rent,  hailed  me  as  her  deliverer, 
but  was  loud  in  her  protestations  of  the  dam 
age  that  was  being  done  to  her  'respectable 
house'  by  my  'lady  friend's'  shameless  conduct 
in  coming  home  in  a  disheveled  and  intoxicated 
condition  for  the  past  three  nights  and  bringing 
strange  men  to  drink  in  her  room  with  her  at 
all  hours. 

"Say;  it  was  fierce!  It  broke  me  all  up! 
I  shut  the  old  hag  up  by  paying  her  a  week's 
rent  in  advance  for  the  miserable  room,  and 
ordered  her  not  to  let  the  woman  go  out  again 
until  I  gave  her  permission.  She  took  my  or 
ders  as  though  I  were  the  woman 's  kept  lover — 
her  'strong-arm'  partner.  I  went  out  to  a 
laborers'  restaurant  in  the  same  block  and 
bought  a  two-dollar  book  of  coupon  meal  tickets 
and  left  them  at  the  'hotel,'  so  the  landlady 
could  use  them  to  send  out  for  food  for  the 
woman,  saying  I  would  look  in  again  next  day. 

"My  dreams  of  love  were  completely  shat 
tered,  but  I  could  not  decently  desert  my  broken 
idol  without  stopping  to  pick  up  the  pieces. 
What  she  had  once  said  to  me  so  vehemently 
about  'my  never  wanting  to  see  her  again  if  I 
once  saw  her  drink,'  now  came  back  to  me 
forcefully;  yet  I  wanted  to  give  her  at  least 


THE  BUM'S  LONG  TALE  287 

a  chance  to  explain  in  mitigation  of  her  con 
duct  and  what  led  her  into  it.  I  had  the  con 
scientious  feeling,  too,  that  my  responsibility 
to  her  could  not  end  until  I  had  sobered  her  up 
and  left  her  able  to  take  care  of  herself  and 
keep  out  of  the  lock-up. — Then  I  would  take 
myself  off,  and  out  of  her  life  forever. 

' '  I  passed  a  restless  night,  going  back  there 
at  noon  the  next  day.  Finding  her  still  sleep 
ing,  I  returned  again  at  evening,  but,  on  the 
landlady's  assertion  that  she  knew  better  how 
to  handle  her  than  I  did  and  her  frank  admis 
sion  that  she  was  in  no  shape  to  be  seen,  I  still 
further  deferred  my  self -promised  talk  with  her. 
I  had  dropped  a  postal  card  to  the  cottage  at 
St.  Paul  telling  my  friends  I  was  detained  in 
Minneapolis  unexpectedly  and  they  need  feel 
no  uneasiness  over  my  continued  absence  for 
another  day  or  two;  but  purposely  withheld 
from  them  any  news  of  my  deplorable  discov 
eries  about  the  woman.  Not  till  three  o'clock 
of  the  second  afternoon  did  I  get  an  opportunity 
of  seeing  and  conversing  with  that  wretched 
derelict,  my  former  lover. 

"The  atmosphere  of  the  mean,  diminutive, 
court  bed-room  she  occupied,  was  stale  and 
musty,  there  was  a  dirty  tray  of  half -consumed 
food  on  the  bureau,  the  bed  had  not  been  re 
made,  and  a  general  air  of  wretchedness  per- 


288  ERIC  MAROTTE 

vaded  the  whole  room.  The  woman  herself 
looked  up  inquiringly  at  me  upon  my  entrance, 
but  said  nothing.  An  awkward  silence  was  at 
length  broken  by  my  polite  inquiries  as  to  her 
physical  well-being,  and  our  conversation  once 
begun,  we  talked  on  for  an  hour. 

"Of  her  own  notion  she  told  me  sufficient 
of  her  personal  history  to  acquaint  me  with 
the  fact  that  she  was  subject  to  intermittent 
relapses  into  her  present  degree  of  irresponsi 
bility;  and  while  I  experienced  some  compassion 
for  one  who  evidently  had  not  the  will-power 
to  resist  such  appetites,  I  was  not  a  fool;  and 
I  informed  her  flatly  that  if  she  did  not  give 
up  such  degrading  habits  at  once  and  perma 
nently,  I  should  quit  her  altogether. 

i  '  She  pleaded  with  me  at  first,  but  finding  me 
determined  and  obdurate  in  my  decision,  grew 
angry,  and  we  quarreled.  When  I  saw  that  she 
was  becoming  hysterical  I  excused  myself  and 
left  her  unceremoniously.  She  pursued  me  to 
the  head  of  the  stairs  with  incoherent  screams 
and  ribald  oaths,  calling  me  a  fugitive  from 
justice — a  murderer,  and  swearing  she  would 
'get  even'  with  me. 

"Outside  on  the  street  I  drew  breath  more 
freely,  congratulating  myself  on  having  found 
her  out  in  time.  It  is  a  mercy  that  such  women 
fail  to  appreciate  the  repelling  force  of  their 


THE  BUM'S  LONG  TALE  289 

depravity  upon  the  ordinary  person  of  the  op 
posite  sex — that  their  illogical  minds  become 
deadened  to  the  repulsiveness  of  their  own  per 
sons,  and  they  do  not  realize  the  awfulness  of 
their  self-inflicted  punishment. 

"When  I  got  back  to  St.  Paul  I  could  see 
nothing  to  be  gained  by  relating  my  sad  ex 
perience  to  my  friends  at  the  little  cottage 
home,  and  I  shrank,  with  untutored  decency  and 
wounded  pride,  from  deliberately  injuring  her 
standing  with  them  by  assailing  her  moral  char 
acter.  All  I  desired  was  to  be  quit  of  her  for 
ever,  and  I  did  not  think  she  would  have  the 
nerve  to  come  back  to  the  cottage  after  what 
had  passed  between  us.  That  showed  I  did  not 
understand  women !  I  obtained  temporary  em 
ployment  in  a  St.  Paul  warehouse,  through  the 
intercession  of  my  friend  while  I  was  away,  and 
things  quieted  down  for  a  week.  Then  the  un 
expected  again  happened. 

"I  remember  it  was  on  another  Saturday 
evening  that  as  I  approached  the  cottage  my 
friend  and  his  wife  appeared  at  the  door  with 
horror  and  consternation  written  on  their  faces, 
and  beckoned  me  to  hurry  towards  them.  The 
wife  informed  me,  in  tearful,  excited  words  that 
the  woman  had  returned  to  the  cottage  that 
morning,  a  little  after  I  had  departed  for  my 
work  at  the  warehouse,  and,  volunteering  some 


290  ERIC  MAROTTE 

plausible  explanation  of  her  long  absence,  had 
gone  to  her  former  bed-room  to  lie  down.  Later 
in  the  day  she  had  helped  to  prepare  luncheon, 
and  then  offered  to  watch  the  child,  who  was 
delighted  to  see  her  again  in  spite  of  her  pre 
vious  indifference  to  him,  while  her  hostess 
went  down-town  on  a  short  shopping  tour,  from 
which  she  had  been  kept  before  by  the  necessity 
of  looking  after  the  child.  When  she — the  host 
ess,  returned,  two  hours  afterwards,  the  woman 
was  gone,  bag  and  baggage,  and  the  child  could 
not  be  found.  She  was  l frightened  to  death!' 
she  said,  and  ran  about  the  near-by  vicinity 
asking  all  her  neighbors  if  they  had  seen  either 
of  the  missing  ones.  Finally  a  small  boy  in 
the  block  remembered  he  had  observed  a  cab 
drive  up  to  the  cottage  and  take  on  a  lady  and 
child  with  baggage,  as  if  for  a  journey. 

"Immediately  it  flashed  upon  me  that  this 
was  the  woman 's  method  of  *  getting  even  with 
me'  for  my  righteous  desertion  of  her,  which 
she  had  evidently  taken  bitterly  to  heart.  Like 
a  woman,  she  took  pleasure  in  a  double  revenge, 
hoping  by  her  unique  plan  to  injure  both  my 
self  and  the  child.  Supper  was  forgotten  and 
we  all  three  set  out  at  once  for  the  different 
railway  stations,  to  try  and  head  her  off  in  her 
cruel  design.  I  stopped  on  my  way  at  the  cen 
tral  police  station  and  enlisted  municipal  aid. 


THE  BUM'S  LONG  TALE  291 

For  two  days  and  nights  we  did  little  else  but 
hunt  for  the  absentees,  but  our  efforts  were 
unrewarded  by  even  a  clew  to  them.  I  was 
deeply  grieved  as  well  as  sadly  worried,  because 
I  had  learned  to  love  the  boy,  and  the  thought 
that  now  I  could  not  return  him  to  his  father 
and  mother  nearly  made  me  ill. 

"At  the  end  of  the  week  the  police  depart 
ment  of  St.  Paul  reported  to  us  that  the  chief 
of  police  of  Milwaukee  had  just  written  saying 
that  a  woman  and  baby  answering  to  the  de 
scription  wired  him  from  St.  Paul,  had  been 
seen  in  his  city  and  he  was  now  trying  to  locate 
them  definitely.  I  had  had  to  give  up  my  job 
anyhow,  as  I  was  no  good  to  any  one  with  this 
depressing  and  upsetting  burden  on  my  mind, 
and  now  I  packed  up  and  took  the  first  train 
for  the  German  City  by  the  Lake. 

"When  I  got  there  the  police  had  nothing 
further  to  report  in  regard  to  the  kidnaper  and 
her  victim,  and  for  several  days  I  joined  their 
local  sleuths  in  their  chase.  Those  were  the 
bitterest  hours  of  my  life,  bitter  as  that  life 
has  been,  for  the  most  part,  since. 

4 '  One  bright  morning  as  I  was  walking  alone 
and  dejected  on  Grand  avenue  a  couple  of  blocks 
west  of  the  old  Plankinton  House,  I  was  at 
tracted  to  a  crowd  gathering  on  the  sidewalk 
near  the  Sixth  avenue  intersection  and  heard 


292  ERIC  MAROTTE 

the  gong  of  a  hurrying  police-patrol  wagon. 
Skirting  the  edge  of  the  crowd,  I  asked  what 
the  trouble  was,  and  learned  that  a  woman  had 
fainted  and  was  lying  there  on  the  walk.  Push 
ing  through  the  mob  as  the  officers  parted  it, 
I  got  close  up  to  the  prostrate  figure.  I  reeled 
with  surprise  and  shock — it  was  the  form  of 
the  woman  I  sought.  A  passing  doctor  was 
working  over  her,  and  as  he  straightened  up 
from  his  stooping  position  I  stepped  forward 
tremulously,  saying  I  knew  the  patient  and 
asking  him  for  the  result  of  his  examination. 
Laconically,  he  answered,  *  Instantaneous  death 
from  heart  disease;  probable  immediate  cause, 
dissipation.  Better  have  her  removed  to  an 
undertaker's.  It's  all  over!' 

"So,  those  lips  from  which,  alone,  I  could 
hope  to  learn  the  whereabouts  of  the  child  or 
its  fate,  were  sealed  forever  without  imparting 
their  secret.  This  was  ' getting  even'  with  a 
vengeance  beyond  the  woman's  boldest  calcula 
tions.  The  body  was  taken  to  an  undertaking 
establishment  by  the  police,  and  I  accompanied 
it.  Knowing  no  address  of  any  relative  of  the 
dead  woman,  I  myself  arranged  to  have  her 
buried  in  a  small  cemetery  in  Milwaukee,  and 
ordered  a  simple  headstone  with  just  her  name 
and  the  date  of  her  decease  on  it,  to  be  set  up 
over  the  grave.  I  took  receipts  from  the  under- 


THE  BUM'S  LONG  TALE      293 

taker,  the  monument  house  and  the  cemetery 
company  in  my  own  name,  leaving  the  latter 
concern  my  St.  Paul  friends'  address,  so  I  could 
turn  over  the  receipts  to  anyone  who  might  la 
ter  come  forward  and  claim  her  body. — I  have 
them  yet.  About  forty  dollars  in  money  was 
found  in  her  clothes,  and  this  I  used  towards 
defraying  the  expense  of  her  burial. 

' i  The  search  for  the  child  was  now  taken 
up  again  with  additional  incentive  and  renewed 
energy;  advertisements  were  inserted  in  all  of 
the  city's  daily  papers  offering  one  hundred 
dollars  reward  for  information  leading  to  the 
discovery  of  the  baby,  living  or  dead;  asylums 
and  hospitals  were  thoroughly  searched,  and  a 
house  to  house  canvass  made.  It  was  all  use 
less.  At  last,  totally  discouraged  and  nearly 
penniless,  I  gave  up  all  present  hopes  of  finding 
the  poor  baby,  and  dreading  to  go  back  to  the 
scene  of  my  misfortune  in  St.  Paul,  came  on  to 
Chicago  to  drink  and  forget! 

"Since  that  time  I  have  wandered  through 
all  the  larger  American  cities,  drifting  aimlessly 
from  place  to  place — sometimes  flush  of  money, 
more  often  as  you  see  me  now.  But  though 
subconsciously  I  have  always  been  on  the  look 
out  for  the  face  of  the  lost  baby  as  I  last  saw 
and  remembered  it,  I  have  never,  to  this  day, 
seen  or  heard  of  the  child  again.  I  do  not 


294  ERIC  MAROTTE 

believe  the  woman  could  have  had  the  nerve, 
or  sufficient  hatred,  to  make  away  with  the 
infant;  nor,  bad  as  she  was,  do  I  think  she  was 
cruel  enough  to  have  disposed  of  it  where  it 
would  be  harshly  treated,  simply  out  of  spite 
for  me;  but  I  can  only  hope,  and  try  to  per 
suade  myself,  that  it  fell  into  good  hands.  It  is 
the  one  pure  dream  of  my  worthless  life  that 
in  some  away,  before  I  die,  I  may  be  assured  of 
its  being  alive  and  that  its  existence  has  not 
been  a  wicked  or  unhappy  one.  Then,  if  the 
still  greater  boon  of  bringing  the  boy,  now 
grown  to  manhood,  together  with  his  own,  real 
parents  again,  might  be  granted  me,  I  could 
die  self-absolved  and  content/* 

It  was  quite  late  when  his  vis  a  vis  at  the 
restaurant  table  concluded,  in  a  breaking  voice, 
his  singular  story.  And  John,  who  was  the 
more  strongly  moved  by  it  through  his  long 
brooding  over  his  own  unraveled  early  history, 
suggested  that  they  postpone  consideration  of 
the  arrangements  he  intended  making  for  his 
assistance  till  another  meeting.  He  took  the 
man  back  to  his  lodgings  and  went  his  own 
homeward  way  in  a  thoughtful  and  speculative 
mood.  Several  days  after  this  he  secured  him 
a  position  as  night  watchman  in  the  machine 
shops  of  his  own  concern.  He  found  him  to  be 
both  loyal  and  thankful,  attending  to  his  few 


THE  BUM'S  LONG  TALE       295 

duties  promptly  and  faithfully,  and  felt  well 
repaid  for  his  efforts  in  helping  him  to  make  a 
man  of  himself.  He  did  this  not  knowing,  how 
ever,  that  in  taking  this  outcast  in  he  "  enter 
tained  an  angel  unawares. " 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

OSTRACISED 

'Laugh  and  the  world  laughs  with  you; 
Weep,  and  you  weep  alone." 

URING  the  four  years  of  John's 
absence  at  Yale  Gretchen  re 
mained  in  much  the  same  social 
circles  as  before.  She  had  not 
sought  entrance  into  new  and 
more  fashionable  "crowds"  of  young  people, 
she  being  satisfied  with  the  old  ones.  She 
entered  no  girls'  "finishing  school"  or  college 
after  her  graduation  from  the  i  i  Central  High, ' ' 
and  so  was  not  affected  by  the  caddishness  of 
the  sororities  nor  "taken  up"  by  eastern  de 
butantes  and  taught  the  vulgar  power  of  mon 
eyed  arrogance  in  society.  When  John  came 
home  to  stay,  however,  and  especially  after  he 
became  established  in  business,  she  accepted 
invitations  into  larger  and  more  exclusive  fields 
of  social  activity,  as  John  was  there  to  escort 
her;  and  her  invitations  were  generally  extend 
ed  to  include  him  as  her  nearest  man  friend. 

Both  Mr.  Hummelmueller  and  Stubbs  Senior 
had  grown  in  prosperity  and  business  impor 
tance  with  the  passing  years.  The  brewery  of 

296 


OSTRACISED  297 

the  former  had  now  an  extensive  shipping  and 
export  trade,  as  well  as  a  greatly  increased 
local  output;  while  Stubbs  Senior  had  outgrown 
his  " independent"  market  and  become  inter 
ested  in  a  large  beef  and  pork  packing  plant 
at  the  Chicago  Union  Stock  Yards. 

Brewers  and  pork  packers,  who  had  been 
rather  "  tabooed "  as  men  of  low  and  revolting 
occupations,  in  local  society  in  Chicago 's  earlier 
palmy  days  of  more  Puritanical  selection;  were 
now  become  the  socially-elect  as  heads  of  great 
corporations;  and  so  the  Hummelmuellers  and 
Stubbses  and  their  ilk,  who  once  performed 
their  own  manual  labor  and  asked  social  favors 
of  no  one,  were  beginning  to  meet  at  many  of 
the  functions  of  the  most  exclusive  "sets"  of 
the  city. 

Most  of  the  * i  old  families ' '  which  originally 
gave  tone  to  the  close-in  boulevards  and  avenues 
of  the  "West  Side"  of  Chicago  (notably  Ash 
land  and  Washington  boulevards),  had  by  this 
time  removed  to  the  "South"  or  "North  Side," 
or  even  into  suburban  "country  homes"  along 
the  "North  Shore"  of  Lake  Michigan,  and,  to 
some  extent,  into  the  farther  suburbs  to  the 
west  of  the  city — to  avoid  the  encroachments  of 
the  ever-prolific  poor.  The  Hummelmuellers 
and  a  few  others  whose  business  places  were 
still  located  on  the  West  side,  held  to  their  old 


298  ERIC  MAROTTE 

homesteads  tenaciously  (as  a  few  of  them  do 
even  to  this  day).  But  the  Stubbses,  now  doing 
business  at  the  Union  Stock  Yards,  had  moved 
into  a  brand-new  Queen  Anne  residence  in  the 
Kenwood  district  (still  the  finest  home  district 
of  the  South  side).  Here  young  Bill  Stubbs 
became  a  more  insufferable  snob  than  ever,  and 
was,  perhaps,  more  highly  appreciated  by  his 
new  associates,  who  took  him  seriously  for  what 
he  pretended  to  be,  than  ever  he  had  been  by 
his  former  youthful  companions,  who  knew  him 
for  what  he  was. 

Thus  John  and  Gretchen  were  frequently  in 
vited  to  formal  dinners  and  dances  and  ' '  dinner- 
dances  "  in  the  South  and  North  side  avenues; 
and  there  they  met  occasionally  young  Stubbs. 

That  more  exclusive  form  of  social  prefer 
ence  evidenced  by  private  dinners  and  luncheons 
and  teas  where  plates  are  laid  for  scarcely  a 
score  at  most,  had  not  yet  come  into  vogue  in 
Chicago,  and  the  "sets"  were  much  fewer  and 
larger  than  now. — Also,  it  was  then  considered 
good  form  for  the  entire  family  to  sit  out  on 
the  front  steps  in  late  afternoon  and  evening, 
in  pleasant  weather,  receiving  their  callers  there 
on  bright  carpets  and  cushions,  instead  of  hid 
ing  away  like  sacred  little  "  popes  "  upon  whom 
it  is  not  meet  for  the  rabble  to  look,  as  is  con 
sidered  en  regie  there  today. — Viewing  the  two 


OSTRACISED  299 

customs  comparatively  and  with  an  unpreju- 
dicial  mind,  one  is  prompted  to  ask,  "What's 
the  difference? " 

At  these  gatherings,  as  elsewhere,  John  had 
always  been  received  and  treated  as  a  social 
equal,  and  even  made  much  of  as  a  rising  young 
Yale  graduate ;  but  in  the  summer  of  the  second 
year  after  his  home-coming  he  began  to  notice 
a  slight  coldness  and  an  increasing  aloofness 
towards  himself  on  the  part  of  several  "  social 
lights"  of  more  or  less  brilliancy,  and  the  num 
ber  of  his  invitations  out  grew  less. 

Abnormally  sensitive  to  social  criticism  by 
reason  of  the  melancholy  induced  in  him  by  his 
unhappy  racial  situation,  he  became  at  first  in 
dignant  over  the  implied  ostracism;  then  some 
what  distant  and  retiring  in  public.  And,  un 
der  all  his  reserve,  he  suffered  keenly  from  this 
adverse  regarding  of  him,  which  in  many  cases 
he  naturally  ascribed  to  those  who  did  not 
really  regard  him  adversely.  One  cannot  al 
ways  discriminate  clearly  between  ill-will  and 
ill-breeding.  He  said  nothing  to  Gretchen  about 
this  new  cross  that  was  being  laid  upon  his 
young  shoulders;  but  she,  herself,  soon  began 
to  note  the  frequency  with  which  her  social 
solicitations  from  others,  verbal  or  written, 
failed  to  include  John;  and  she  asked  him  if  he 
could  imagine  a  reason  for  it.  Then  he  told 


300  ERIC  MAROTTE 

her  what  he  thought ;  namely,  that  someone  must 
be  spreading  insinuating  reports  about  him  in 
regard  to  his  supposed  racial  connections. 

She  was  deeply  pained  and  resentful  for  him 
and  proposed  to  decline  all  future  requests  for 
her  presence  which  could  be  construed  as  pur 
posely  omitting  him;  but  he  pointed  out  to  her 
the  untenableness  and  the  injustice  to  herself 
of  such  a  stand,  and  induced  her  to  do  nothing 
about  it  for  the  time  being.  Meanwhile,  by  dis 
creet  queries  and  clever  surmises,  he  undertook 
to  find  out  just  what  was  being  gossiped  abouf 
him  and  to  trace  it  back  to  its  original  source 
of  promulgation. 

Eventually,  he  met,  at  one  of  the  few  gentle 
men's  clubs  yet  existing  on  the  "West  Side"  of 
Chicago,  a  young  wholesale  sheet-iron  man  who 
was  under  considerable  business  obligations  to 
him,  and  who  took  him  confidentially  aside  and 
informed  him  that  it  had  come  to  his  personal 
knowledge  that,  about  three  months  before,  a 
Mr.  William  Stubbs  who  was  much  affected  by 
the  faster  sets  of  young,  unmarried  people,  had 
deliberately  bruited  abroad  a  story  to  the  effect 
that  he,  John  Manning,  was  "a  bastard  found 
ling,  the  illegitimate  Negro  son  of  a  low  white 
woman,"  and  claimed  he  had  the  evidence  to 
prove  it. 

Too  polished  and  circumspect  now  to  bully 


OSTRACISED  301 

John  in  his  old,  uncouth,  open  way,  and  more 
than  ever  aware  of  the  latter 's  mental,  moral 
and  physical  superiority  over  himself,  this  was, 
then,  the  underhanded  mode  of  Bill  Stubbs' 
new  vicious,  but  covert,  social  assault  on  him 
in  his  pusillanimous  desire  of  gratifying  his 
personal,  ancient  spite  and  envy.  And  the  pity 
of  it  was  that  there  seemed  no  help  for  it — no 
way  of  openly  disputing  or  disproving  Stubbs' 
cruel  assertions  without  widening  the  very 
publicity  that,  for  Gretchen's  sake,  must  be 
avoided.  He  could,  without  a  doubt,  call  Stubbs 
to  account,  and  privately  punch  his  nose  if  Ije 
refused  to  retract  his  statements;  but  the  mis 
chief  was  already  done,  and,  beyond  that  fact, 
if  he  really  was  a  Negro,  he  had  no  desire  to 
disown  his  race  by  a  cowardly  essay  to  foist 
himself  upon  the  social  life  of  a  higher  race 
through  the  fawning  enactment  of  a  lie. 

That  Stubbs  should  go  so  far  in  his  low  vin- 
dictiveness  as  to  term  him  a  " bastard"  made 
John's  blood  boil  in  silent  rage,  and  filled  his 
heart  with  a  murderous  longing  for  revenge 
upon  Stubbs  that  would  have  disturbed  that 
worthy  butcher's  son  mightily  had  he  suspected 
its  menace  to  his  own  sweet  carcass.  For 
neither  Jim  nor  Jemima  had  ever  breathed  a 
word  to  John,  or  anyone  else,  of  the  damning 


302  ERIC  MAROTTE 

note  found  enclosed  in  the  gold  locket  he  wore 
the  night  he  was  left  at  their  door. 

Bill  Stubbs,  the  implacable,  like  most  would- 
be  villains,  overshot  his  mark,  in  spite  of  all 
his  cunning,  in  asserting  his  ability  to  prove 
just  who  John  was ;  for  it  soon  dawned  on  his 
victim's  mind  that,  as  a  bare  possibility,  Stubbs 
might  accidentally  have  stumbled  upon  some 
genuine,  traceable  clew  to  the  real  history  of 
his  birth,  so  long  a  sealed  book  to  him.  He 
determined  to  put  this  hypothesis  to  the  test. 
If  it  turned  out  to  be  well-founded  and  Stubbs ' 
story  to  be  true,  why,  the  latter  ?s  attack  upon 
his  personality  would  have  proved  a  blessing 
in  disguise,  and,  while  not  exactly  a  boomerang 
to  Stubbs  himself,  it  would  have  served  John  in 
a  way  so  near  to  his  heart  as  almost  to  make 
him  forget  and  forgive  the  wrong  intended. 

This  set  John  to  thinking  out  how  to  acquire 
the  details  of  the  so-claimed,  special  informa 
tion  in  the  easiest,  surest  and  most  non-com- 
mital  way.  In  the  course  of  a  few  days,  he  had 
elaborated  a  plan  and  began  to  carry  it  out.  At 
tending  such  social  affairs  as  still  included  him 
among  their  invited  guests,  and  mixing  with  the 
other  participants  nonchalantly,  as  though  noth 
ing  had  occurred  to  distress  him,  he  watched 
Stubbs  closely  wherever  he  ran  across  him,  to 
ascertain  who  were  his  closest  intimates,  and  so 


OSTRACISED  303 

most  likely  to  be  his  confidants  in  his  trouble- 
brewing  for  anyone  he  might  happen  to  dis 
like.  From  among  these  he  picked  out  a  hot- 
tempered,  bibulous  youth  who  belonged  to  the 
same  club  as  did  Stubbs  himself — the  club  in 
which  he  had  been  told  by  the  iron-monger  of 
Stubbs '  scandalous  utterances.  Then  he  con 
spired  with  this  friend  to  have  the  latter  start 
a  discussion  at  the  club  with  Stubbs'  bibulous 
satellite  some  night  when  all  three  of  them 
were  there  and  the  "satellite"  was  following  a 
"wobbly"  orbit.  In  this  discussion  John's 
friend  was  to  take  exception  to  Stubbs'  dis 
semination  of  the  scandal,  and  offer  to  bet  the 
bibulous  one  a  hundred  dollars  that  Stubbs' 
story  about  John's  birth  and  parentage,  was 
either  a  canard  or  a  deliberate,  premeditated 
lie,  trusting  to  the  cupidity  of  the  youth's 
prompting  him  to  take  the  whole  matter  direct 
to  Stubbs  himself.  This  would  compel  that 
vain-glorious  cad  either  to  back  up  his  rash  as 
sertions  with  proof  positive  or  to  let  his  chum  in 
for  the  loss  of  his  bet.  Another  member  of  the 
club  who  was  friendly  to  John,  had  volunteered 
to  be  idling  within  ear-shot  and  to  "butt  in" 
at  the  psychological  moment,  so  that  John 
might  secure  at  least  two  witnesses  to  the  re 
sult  of  the  manoeuvre.  John  gladly  provided 
the  money  to  cover  the  proposed  wager,  as  he 


304  ERIC  MAROTTE 

was  perfectly  willing  to  lose  that  amount  if 
Stubbs'  proofs  threw  any  real  light  upon  this, 
the  greatest  question  of  his  life. 

The  propitious  occasion  finally  came,  and 
the  simple  ruse  worked  like  a  charm,  John's 
chief  coadjutor  in  the  scheme  laying  just  enough 
stress  upon  his  insinuations  that  Stubbs  had 
lied,  to  insure  its  prompt  repetition  verbatim  to 
Stubbs,  with  the  probable  effects  of  enraging 
that  doughty  destroyer  of  character  into  nam 
ing  his  informant,  if  any,  in  justification  of  his 
dirty  tactics. 

Stubbs  at  first  stood  on  his  dignity  and, 
while  he  swore  he  had  plenty  of  evidence  to 
prove  all  he  had  stated  about  John,  declined  to 
"lower  himself "  to  the  necessity  of  proving 
anything  to  anybody  who  "  doubted  his  word 
as  a  gentleman/'  Howbeit,  this  did  not  suit 
his  chum,  who  angrily  reminded  him  that  un 
less  he  did  prove  his  case,  the  former  stood  to 
lose  not  only  his  own  one  hundred  dollars  but 
the  other  hundred  he  hoped  to  win.  The  up 
shot  of  the  whole  matter  was  that  Stubbs, 
driven  into  a  corner,  reluctantly  agreed  to  bring 
to  the  club-rooms  on  the  succeeding  evening  a 
certain  wholesale  delivery  wagon  driver  for  his 
father's  stock-yards  concern.  This  man,  he 
claimed,  was  the  identical  person  who  brought 
John  to  "Goose  Island"  and  left  him  at  the 


OSTRACISED  305 

Mannings'  cottage.  The  two  parties  to  the 
wager  put  the  two  hundred  dollars,  by  mutual 
consent,  in  an  envelope  and  deposited  it  in  the 
club's  safe.  Then  they  had  a  " night-cap "  all 
around  and  dispersed. 

After  hearing  his  friend's  report  next  morn 
ing,  John  passed  a  restless  day,  torn  between 
hopes  and  misgivings,  and  that  night  he  lay 
awake  in  the  mental  anguish  of  one  who  feels 
the  crisis  of  his  existence  approaching  and  fears 
its  revelations.  His  foster-parents  were  un 
aware  of  any  measures  he  had  adopted  to  open 
up  the  secret  of  his  past.  John  did  not  want 
to  disturb  their  honestly-won  happiness  and 
equanimity  with  doubts  and  fears  of  his  own 
which  might,  after  all,  turn  out  groundless.  To 
them,  though  not  to  him,  the  question  of  his 
birth  had  long  been  a  closed  incident,  and  the 
reopening  of  which  must  necessarily  wound 
their  loving  hearts  now  so  strongly  anchored  in 
the  belief  of  their  sole  right  to  his  filial  affec 
tions.  Gretchen  knew,  in  a  general  way,  that 
inquiries  were  on  foot,  but  trusted  John  to  dis 
close  to  her  in  his  own  chosen  time  whatever  it 
was  right  for  her  to  know  of  his  discoveries. 

Morning  dawned  on  a  gray  November  sky, 
adding  its  outward  gloom  to  the  inward  op 
pression  that  filled  John  now.  He  steeled  his 
heart  to  meet  undaunted  whatever  shock  of  dis- 


306  ERIC  MAROTTE 

closure  must  come  with  the  unveiling  of  the 
past,  and  went  resolutely  to  his  office  duties. 
At  about  eleven-thirty,  when  the  suspense  had 
become  almost  unendurable,  his  trusty  co-con 
spirators  called  for  him  and  the  trio  proceeded 
to  a  high-class  down-town  restaurant  and  cater 
ing  establishment  on  Adams  street,  opposite  the 
north  front  of  the  main  post  office.  (This  estab 
lishment,  in  those  days  the  pride  of  the  city, 
has  long  since  been  forgotten,  its  glory  de 
parted,  its  owner  dead,  and  its  specially  con 
structed  home  demolished  to*  make  way  for  a 
sky-scraper.)  Here  they  secured  a  table  in  one 
of  its  smaller  private  dining  rooms  upstairs. 
After  their  luncheon  had  been  served  and  des 
patched,  they  dismissed  the  waiter  with  a  lib 
eral  tip,  and  the  momentous  recital  to  John  of 
the  happenings  and  divulgings  at  the  prear 
ranged  meeting  at  the  club  on  the  night  before 
was  begun.  John  watched  the  face  of  the 
speaker  with  magnetized  closeness  and  growing 
emotion. 

It  appeared  from  it  that  Bill  Stubbs  had 
brought  his  informant  to  the  club  as  agreed. 
This  informant  was  a  rough-looking  customer 
with  nervous  eyes.  He  was  obviously  embar 
rassed  by  his  unusual  surroundings  in  the  club- 
rooms  and  seemed  to  suspect  that  some  trap  was 
being  set  for  him,  though  assured  by  Stubbs 


OSTRACISED  307 

that  there  was  no  intention  on  the  part  of  any 
one  to  prosecute  him  for  his  connection  with 
that  affair  of  so  many  years  ago.  A  couple  of 
rounds  of  drinks  revived  his  spirits  and  re 
moved  his  suspicions,  and  after  a  third  his 
tongue  loosened  and  he  even  grew  confidentially 
loquacious.  Also,  he  produced  old  letters  and 
memoranda  and  the  names  and  addresses  of 
witnesses  still  living  in  Chicago,  which,  when 
verified,  would  readily  and  quickly  confirm  and 
corroborate  him  in  all  his  assertions  and  prove 
the  truth  of  his  informal  deposition. 

The  gist  of  his  story  was,  that  some  twenty- 
one  years  before,  he  had  found  himself  stranded 
in  Milwaukee,  where  he  had  been  discharged 
from  his  position  on  a  lake  passenger  boat,  for 
drunkenness.  That  he  could  get  no  work  there 
and  was  ' '  stony-broke " — reduced,  in  fact,  to 
foraging  on  the  free  lunch  counters  of  the  beer 
saloons  so  numerous  in  that  German-speaking 
burg,  and  depending  upon  an  occasional  dime 
begged  or  wheedled  from  some  passer-by  for  a 
bed  in  a  *  hobo's'  lodging-house.  That,  one  day, 
as  he  sat  loafing  in  his  worn-out  clothes  on  a 
hard  bench  in  Juneau  Park  on  the  lake  front, 
looking  from  its  elevation  down  over  the  rail 
way  tracks  to  the  boats  loading  and  unloading 
at  the  piers,  and  speculating  idly  upon  their 
probable  destinations  and  the  chances  of  stow- 


308  ERIC  MAROTTE 

ing  himself  away  on  one  of  them  in  the  hope 
of  being  allowed  to  work  his  passage  to  some 
other,  more  hospitable  city;  a  woman  carrying 
a  baby  had  come  along  and  seated  herself  on 
the  same  bench,  with  a  furtive  glance  at  his 
forlorn  appearance  and  negligent  attitude. 

She  had  spoken  to  him  casually,  and,  pre 
tending  to  be  philanthropically  inclined,  en 
couraged  him  to  unfold  to  her  sympathetic  ear 
his  hard-luck  story.  At  its  conclusion  she  gave 
him  a  half-dollar,  abstracting  it  from  her  purse 
ostentatiously  and  holding  the  purse  open  so 
that  he  could  not  fail  to  see  that  it  was  well 
lined  with  bills. 

She  soon  said  " good-bye"  and  started  to 
walk  away,  but,  curving  back  as  if  struck  by 
a  sudden  idea,  asked  him  if  he  would  under 
take  a  delicate  mission  if  he  were  well  paid  for 
it.  Being  about  desperate,  anyway,  and  grate 
fully  disposed  towards  her  for  her  friendly 
gift — the  glimpse  she  had  given  him  of  the  thick 
wad  of  bills  in  her  pocketbook  acting,  too,  as  a 
subjective  lure  to  him — he  had  unhesitatingly 
answered  in  the  affirmative. 

Reseating  herself  close  to  him  and  lowering 
her  voice,  she  had  then  told  him,  with  an  air  of 
great  mystery,  that  the  baby  she  carried  was  a 
Negro;  the  fruit  of  a  guilty  liason  of  her  own 
sister's,  a  woman  of  the  middle  classes,  and 


OSTRACISED  309 

who  had  been  betrayed  by  the  father  of  the 
child,  and  then  deserted  by  him  when  she  told 
him  she  was  enceinte.  That  the  poor  girl  had 
given  up  all  hopes  of  returning  to  her  father 's 
house  in  another  Wisconsin  City,  as  her  family 
had  disowned  her  on  discovering  her  condition 
— and,  starving  and  in  despair  of  ever  being 
able  to  hold  up  her  head  again,  had  become  a 
" woman  of  the  town."  Hence  she  could  no 
longer  keep  the  child  with  her,  and  had  made 
a  passionate  appeal  by  letter  to  her  oldest  sis 
ter  to  come  and  take  it  away.  That  she,  who 
addressed  him,  was  the  oldest  sister,  and  that, 
shamed  by  the  coldness  and  uncharitable  bitter 
ness  of  the  rest  of  the  family,  she  had  in  a 
round-about  way  hunted  up  her  erring  youngest 
sister  and  promised  her  she  would  dispose  of 
the  unfortunate  child  as  quietly  and  as  advan 
tageously  to  the  infant  itself  as  possible. 

But  nobody  in  Milwaukee  seemed  to  want 
it,  and  her  proposition  to  him  now  was  to  give 
him  twenty-five  dollars  if  he  would  take  the 
baby  to  Chicago  to  get  rid  of  it  beyond  trace 
or  recovery  in  some  out-of-the-way  part  of  its 
less-known  purlieus.  He  must  not  let  it  come 
to  any  harm  while  in  his  possession  and  must 
leave  it  neither  at  any  public  institution,  nor  at 
any  home  where  he  had  reason  to  believe,  from 
its  general  aspect,  that  the  baby  would  be  badly 


310  ERIC  MAROTTE 

treated  if  taken  in  and  kept — as  she  wished  it 
no  harm,  it  being  her  own  sister's  child. 

He  had  hesitated  a  little  over  accepting  this 
commission  as  the  hired  instrument  of  the  fate 
of  a  human  being,  with  a  superstitious  dread  of 
crossing  the  lines  of  predestination;  but  the 
11  misplacing "  of  a  "little  nigger "  more  or  less 
seemed  less  inculpating  than  intentionally  los 
ing  a  real  white  baby.  Mistaking  the  cause  of 
his  hesitation,  she  hastened  to  add  that  the  baby 
was  so  light  in  color  it  would  readily  pass  for 
a  white  child,  and  he  wouldn't  be  questioned 
on  the  short  ride  between  Milwaukee  and  Chi 
cago,  and  that,  as  she  trusted  him  to  carry  out 
his  part  of  the  "contract,"  he  must  trust  her 
as  to  the  truth  of  her  statement  of  the  facts  in 
the  case. 

Before  he  could  formulate  his  objections  she 
had  thrust  five  five-dollar  bills  into  his  hand 
and  held  the  baby  out  to  him;  and  he  had  ac 
cepted  both  mechanically,  as  she  walked  off  and 
left  him  to  his  own  resources.  Going  to  the 
south  end  of  the  park,  he  had  boarded  the  first 
train  out  on  the  Chicago  and  Northwestern  Rail 
way.  He  had  scarcely  glanced  at  the  child  while 
in  Milwaukee,  but  before  his  train  entered  Chi 
cago  he  had  already  become  unconsciously  at 
tached  to  it  (it  seemed  to  prefer  him  to  the 
woman  who  had  so  carelessly  given  it  up,  and 


OSTRACISED  311 

to  a  perfect  stranger),  touched  by  its  trustful 
clinging  to  him,  and  his  heart  revolted  against 
the  thought  of  making  it  the  innocent  victim 
of  the  woman's  cold-blooded  bargain  with  him. 
She  had  spoken  without  emotion,  and  he  did 
not  half  believe  her  story  of  the  child's  paren 
tage;  but  he  was  in  no  position  to  help  himself, 
as  he  could  not  find  her  again  if  he  wanted  to; 
and  he  reasoned  that  if  he  did  take  the  child 
back  to  such  an  unmotherly  female,  she  would 
only  employ  some  one  else,  more  heartless  than 
he  was,  to  do  her  bidding.  In  his  uncertainty 
he  bethought  himself  that  he  might  "hit  two 
birds  with  one  stone ' 9  by  keeping  control  of  the 
baby  for  a  few  days,  in  case  the  woman  had  lied 
to  him,  as  he  suspected,  and  its  real  parents 
should  offer  a  reward  for  its  recovery.  So  ho 
had,  on  striking  Chicago,  hunted  up  a  half -or 
phan  asylum,  where  for  a  small  weekly  stipend 
the  children  of  poor  widows  and  widowers  were 
cared  for  until  their  parents  could  reclaim  them. 
He  succeeded  in  convincing  its  matron  that  the 
child  was  his,  and  left  it  there,  saying  he  would 
call  and  pay  for  its  keep  from  week  to  week. 
He  next  secured  employment  at  the  Illinois 
Central  Railway  freight  house  near  the  mouth 
of  the  Chicago  River.  He  was  an  illiterate  and 
depended  upon  others  for  his  newspaper  infor 
mation.  He  had  some  trouble  getting  hold  of 


312  ERIC  MAROTTE 

any  Milwaukee  papers,  but  for  a  week  went 
out  of  his  way  to  find  them. 

Those  whom  he  induced  to  look  through  them 
found  no  advertisement  in  them  in  regard  to 
any  lost  child.  After  that  he  arranged  with  a 
German  friend  who  took  one  or  two  of  the 
Cream  City's  dailies  regularly,  to  watch  for 
such  an  advertisement,  and  gave  up  looking 
himself.  A  month  later,  when  he  had  heard 
nothing  from  this  friend,  he  hunted  him  up  and 
asked  him  about  it;  only  to  be  told  that  the  lat 
ter  had  forgotten  all  about  it  after  the  first  day 
or  two.  A  couple  of  months  passed  in  this  way 
without  his  learning  of  any  offered  reward  for 
the  locating  or  return  of  the  baby.  Then  came 
the  cold  weather  of  winter  and  in  December  he 
lost  his  job  through  a  local,  temporary  strike 
of  freight  handlers  on  the  Illinois  Central,  and 
found  the  expense  of  paying  even  the  small 
amount  necessary  for  the  semi-public  mainte 
nance  of  the  infant,  an  unwelcome  burden. 

Unwilling  longer  to  assume  the  responsibility 
of  its  rearing  and  unable  to  keep  up  its  support, 
and  figuring  in  his  own  ignorant  way  that  it 
would  stand  a  better  chance  of  final  adoption 
by  some  substantial  householder  if  left  on  his 
door  steps  during  the  heart-softening  season  of 
the  Christmas  holidays;  he  had,  on  Christmas 
eve,  the  poetic  anniversary  of  the  finding  of 


OSTRACISED  313 

that  other  babe,  the  Christ-child,  by  the  shep 
herds,  in  his  lowly  manger-bed,  taken  it  away 
out  to  " Goose  Island'7  and  abandoned  it  there, 
at  the  door  of  a  cottage  which  looked  as  though 
it  might  be  occupied  by  thrifty  and  kind-hearted 
people.  He  had  knocked  on  the  door  and  run 
away;  and  going  back  an  hour  later  to  make 
sure  of  the  baby's  safety,  he  had  been  just  in 
time  to  see  a  white  woman  come  out  and  get 
the  baby  and  run  back  into  the  house  with  it; 
and  that  was  the  last  he  had  ever  seen  or  heard 
of  it  until  Stubbs  had  one  day  overheard  him 
making  some  maudlin  remarks,  while  under  the 
influence  of  liquor,  about  a  baby  he  once 
"owned"  for  a  while  and  which  he  had  given 
to  a  friend  on  "Goose  Island."  He  had  for 
gotten  he  ever  made  such  a  "break,"  but  it 
seemed  that  Mr.  Stubbs  had  been  struck  by  the 
singularity  of  his  remark  (for  an  unmarried 
man)  and  its  coincidence  with  the  finding  of 
John  by  the  Mannings,  and  had,  by  threats  of 
exposure,  wormed  the  whole  story  out  of  him. 
The  dates  and  the  descriptions  tallied  fairly 
with  what  Stubbs  knew  of  John's  history,  and 
the  "providential"  unearthing  of  this  impor 
tant  evidence  gave  him  the  opportunity  he  had 
long  sought  in  vain  of  injuring  John's  reputa 
tion,  by  spreading  the  story,  garbled  to  suit 
his  own  ends.  The  driver  had  had  no  idea  that 


314  ERIC  MAROTTE 

the  house  at  which  he  left  the  foundling  was 
occupied  by  Negroes,  and  was  much  put  out 
when  so  informed  by  Stubbs. 

Instead  of  going,  like  a  man,  to  John's  fos 
ter-parents  and  placing  his  accidentally  ac 
quired  information  at  their  disposal,  to  be  used 
for  John's  possible  benefit,  Stubbs  had  tried  to 
make  capital  out  of  it  for  his  own  revengeful 
purposes. 

When  his  friend  had  concluded  his  account 
of  the  meeting  and  the  wagon  driver's  tale,  John 
sat  silent  and  distraught,  his  eyes  cast  down,  his 
hands  trembling  and  his  whole  body  shaking 
with  an  emotional  chill.  He  was,  at  heart,  eager 
to  follow  up  this  unanticipated  clew  to  his  par 
entage  at  once,  as  the  story  the  woman  had  re 
lated  to  the  wagon-driver  about  the  child's  be 
ing  illegitimate,  when  coupled  with  her  evident 
indifference  to  her  own  supposed  relationship 
to  it,  appeared  by  no  means  conclusive  to  him. 
Yet,  he  felt  shamed  before  his  two  friends,  who 
might,  with  some  show  of  reason,  take  for 
granted  the  stigma  it  placed  upon  his  name. 

Eeading  his  thoughts  by  the  light  of  their 
true  friendship  and  respect  for  him,  they  called 
in  the  waiter  and  ordered  a  bottle  of  light  wine 
to  cheer  John  up,  assuring  him  that  they  had 
little  confidence  in  assertions  coming  from  such 
a  woman  and  would  believe  nothing  detrimental 


OSTRACISED  315 

to  his  genealogy,  unless  it  were  established  as 
a  truth  beyond  all  possible  doubt. 

They  retendered  him  their  personal  services 
if  he  should  need  them  to  run  down  the  evi 
dence. 

Eelieved  and  heartened  by  their  loyalty  and 
desire  to  help  him,  John  entered  upon  an  hour's 
discussion  with  them  of  the  case  in  all  its  bear 
ings  and  details,  and  agreed  to  appoint  another 
meeting  between  the  three  of  them  if,  when  he 
had  decided  what  steps  he  desired  to  take  in 
the  matter,  he  found  he  needed  their  assistance. 
His  head  was  in  a  dizzy  whirl  of  new  thoughts 
and  conjectures  as  he  walked  back  alone  to 
his  office,  but  before  he  reached  it  he  became 
calmer  and  more  sanguine,  through  an  unrea 
soning,  yet  persisting,  conviction  that  some 
good  must  come  to  him  from  his  proposed  in 
vestigations  and  search.  And,  even  if  his  re 
searches  turned  out  unhappily  for  him,  he  must 
pursue  them  to  the  bitter  end;  for  any  solution 
whatsoever  of  this  all-absorbing  enigma — the 
mystery  surrounding  his  birth  and  real  parents, 
would  be  more  endurable  than  his  present  state 
of  demoralizing  suspense. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

VISITORS  AND  CONVERGING  LINES 


^-      ^^IM  and  Jemima  were  still  in  blissful 
^  ignorance,  both  of  Bill  Stubbs'  in- 

Ift  M*  nuendos  and  of  their  later  seeming 
^^*^  verification.  They  naturally  did  not 
attend  the  "swell"  functions  of  the  higher 
white  classes,  and  the  rumor  started  by  John's 
private  enemy  had  not  reached  the  common 
people  around  "Goose  Island.  "  As  to  what  he 
had  learned  from  the  driver's  story,  John 
deemed  it  kinder  to  them  and  more  satisfying 
to  himself  to  keep  it  from  his  foster-parents' 
ears  until  he  had  further  unraveled  the  tangled 
skein  of  his  earlier  existence  and  traced  back 
its  threads  to  their  common  origin  —  in  the  cher 
ished  desire  of  establishing  at  least  the  legitim 
acy  of  his  birth.  To  Gretchen  he  simply  said 
that  he  had  come  upon  a  warm  clew  through 
Stubbs'  evil  machinations,  but  did  not  wish  to 
discuss  it,  even  with  her,  until  he  had  more 
favorable  or  fuller  news  to  impart.  She  experi 
enced  some  resentment  at  this,  and  was  hurt  by 
his  implied  lack  of  confidence  in  her  sure  loy 
alty  to  him  under  any  circumstances  of  birth  his 
careful  process  of  inquiry  might  develop;  but 

316 


VISITORS— CONVERGING  LINES         3 1 7 

she  appreciated  his  extreme  sensitiveness  on 
that  point  and  held  her  peace.  She  waited  with 
a  true  woman's  patience  for  the  hour  of  trial 
for  her  love,  if  it  must  come,  feeling  inwardly 
that  in  the  end  he  must  succumb  to  her  unswerv 
ing  fealty,  and  marry  her.  About  this  time  a 
new  event  transiently  carried  her  thoughts  into 
other  channels. 

Four  days  before  the  Christmas  of  this  year, 
Gretchen,  on  her  return  home  from  a  shopping 
expedition  through  the  big  down-town  stores  to 
select  Yule-tide  presents  for  others,  was  in 
formed  by  the  cook  (it  was  the  house-maid's  day 
off)  that  some  one  had  called  up  on  the  'phone 
an  hour  earlier  and  asked  for  her,  and  would 
"ring  her  up"  again  at  five.  Ten  minutes  later 
the  telephone  bell  rang  and  Gretchen  took  up 
the  receiver. 

"Hello!  Hello!    Is  this  No.  -    -?" 

"Yes;  who  do  you  want  to  talk  with?" 

' '  Miss  Hummelmueller. ' ' 

"This  is  Miss  Hummelmueller  on  the  wire 
now." 

"Oh!  is  that  you,  Gretchen  I  Don't  you 
know  my  voice  ?  I  am  Mrs.  Marotte,  whom  you 
met  in  Montreal  two  years  ago." 

"Why,  how  delightful!  When  did  you  ar 
rive  and  where  are  you  stopping?" 

"I  knew  you  would  be  glad  to  see  me  if  I 


318  ERIC  MAROTTE' 

let  you  know  I  was  in  Chicago.  Mr.  Marotte 
and  I  are  at  the  Sherman  House.  We  got  in 
just  this  morning — on  business,  but  are  going 
to  remain  here  over  the  Christmas  holidays — 
if  you  can  spare  the  time  to  show  us  the  social 
menagerie  of  your  "village"  and  will  let  us  join 
your  Christmas  revels.  Will  you,  dear?" 

"You  know,  Mrs.  Marotte,  mother  and  I 
could  have  no  greater  pleasure.  She'll  be  aw 
fully  surprised,  though.  When  may  we  call  for 
you?  You  must  make  our  house  your  home 
while  you  are  here.  We  don't  live  in  a  very 
attractive  neighborhood,  but  the  old  house  is  a 
dear,  old-fashioned  place  and  I  know  you  will 
enjoy  it.  Anyhow,  you  shall  'go  out'  all  you 
want  to — I'll  get  invitations  for  you  and  your 
husband  to  all  the  best  houses,  for  their  holiday 
parties;  and — 

"My!  my!  child,  you  quite  take  my  breath 
away!  I'll  ask  Francois  if  we'd  better  go  to 
you — I'm  sure  we'd  have  a  'scrumptuous'  time 
and  I'd  hate  to  spend  Christmas  all  alone  in  a 
poky  old  hotel  in  this  big  city." 

"All  right!    Hurry  up!" 

"Hold  the  wire  a  minute — I  hear  Francois 
coming  along  the  hall  now — Hello!  Gretchen, 
are  you  still  on  the  wire?" 

"Yes." 

"0,  I  say!  Francois  is  as  pleased  as  a  boy 


VISITORS— CON  VERGING  LINES         3 1 9 

over  your  plans  for  us.  If  you  can  come  for  us 
at  ten  tomorrow  morning,  we'll  be  all  packed 
and  ready.  It's  awfully  good  of  you,  and  I'm 
just  dying  to  kiss  you.  Give  my  love  to  your 
mother." 

"How  lovely!  Won't  this  be  a  Christmas 
to  remember! — 

"Did  you  bring  your  trunks!  Yes?  I'll 
telephone  the  express  company  to  call  at  the 
hotel  and  get  them  in  the  morning,  and  I'll  be 
there  myself  with  mother  and  the  carriage  at 
ten  sharp.  Are  you  both  well?" 

"Fine!  and  you've  made  us  very  happy,  too. 
Well,  good-bye  till  tomorrow.  We've  brought 
you  something  nice  for  your  Christmas  pres 
ent." 

"  Oh !  I  bet  I  '11  just  adore  it !— what  is  it  ?  " 
4  *  That's  telling!    You  shan't  see  it  till  Christ 
mas  eve,  you  little  minx!" 

"I  must  run  and  tell  the  folks  you're  here — 
Ha!  Ha!  Ha!  Ha!  Ha!— won't  they  be  excited! 
I  shan't  be  able  to  eat  a  bite  till  I  see  you — 
here's  a  kiss  for  you — can  you  hear  it  over  the 
wire?  Yes?  What  fun!— ha!  ha!  ha!  ha!— 
good-bye!" 

Preparations  for  the  reception  of  their  unex 
pected  but  doubly  welcome  visitors  were  has 
tened;  and  promptly  at  ten  o'clock  of  the  next 
morning  Gretchen  and  her  mother  entered  the 


320  ERIC  MAROTTE 

large,  ground  floor  reception  room  at  the  hotel. 
Mrs.  Marotte  'phoned  down  from  their  room 
that  they  were  to  go  up  at  once,  so  their  demon 
strative  reunion  could  have  full  license  of  pri 
vacy.  The  meeting  between  the  four  was  a  joy 
ous  one,  free  from  all  conventional  restraint, 
and  soon  they  were  all  on  their  way  to  the  Hum- 
melmueller  home,  talking  so  fast  that  the 
Marottes  scarce  noted  the  ugly  and  unromantic 
blocks  along  which  they  passed.  ' i Papa* '  Hum- 
melmueller  welcomed  them  at  the  front  door  and 
at  once  fell  in  love  with  the  striking-looking, 
polished-mannered,  jovial  Canadian  couple.  The 
Hummelmueller  household  still  clung  to  the  old- 
fashioned  custom  of  serving  dinner  at  noon, 
since  the  head  of  the  family  could  so  readily 
reach  home  from  his  brewery  at  that  hour,  and 
in  half  an  hour  hosts  and  guests  were  seated 
around  the  generously  provided  board.  In  the 
afternoon  they  drove  through  Humboldt,  Gar- 
field  and  Douglas  Parks  and  along  Washington 
and  Ashland  boulevards,  the  fat  old  carriage 
team  of  bays  bringing  them  back  in  good  sea 
son  for  an  early  supper. 


John  had  gone  to  Milwaukee  in  pursuit  of 
his  inquiries  into  the  identity  of  the  woman 
whom  Stubbs'  informant  claimed  had  asked  him 


VISITORS— CONVERGING  LINES         321 

to  dispose  of  "her  sister's  baby,"  and  he  did 
not  come  back  to  Chicago  for  several  days. 

After  diligent  and  exhaustive  searching,  he 
at  length  ran  across  a  superannuated  police 
sergeant  there  who  recollected  a  case  of  as 
sumed  abduction  which  had  been  reported  to 
the  Milwaukee  police  department  about  twenty 
years  back.  But  his  impression  was  that  the 
woman  sought  for  as  a  kidnaper  was  found  dead 
on  the  sidewalk  near  Grand  avenue  and  Fifth 
street  soon  after. 

Then,  all  at  once,  a  great  light  broke  on 
John's  mind.  He  recalled  the  strange  tale  told 
to  him  by  his  own  firm's  present  night  watch 
man  whom  he  had  rescued  from  the  slums,  and 
the  belief  grew  upon  him  that  there  might  be 
a  connection  between  it  and  the  complemental 
story  of  the  stock-yards  driver.  Quick  thoughts, 
of  alternating  hopefulness  and  doubting,  chased 
each  other  through  his  head,  and  his  heart 
leaped  within  him  as  he  perceived  that  here, 
perhaps,  was  the  missing  link  that  would  belie 
that  woman's  base  assertion  of  his  illegitimacy, 
and  lead  him  back  along  the  true  trail  of  his 
involuntary  infantile  wanderings,  to  his  actual 
father  and  mother. 

The  police  records  of  the  particular  case  now 
under  investigation  by  him,  his  action  prompted 
by  the  old  sergeant's  dim,  ambiguous  recollec- 


322  ERIC  MAROTTE 

tions,  were  long  since  lost  or  destroyed,  and 
nothing  further  could  be  learned  in  that  city; 
so  he  caught  the  evening  train  to  Chicago  over 
the  Chicago,  Milwaukee  and  St.  Paul,  deter 
mined  to  *  *  rout  out ' '  the  watchman  at  once  and 
compare  notes  with  him  on  the  two  important 
stories.  Arriving  at  the  Union  Station,  at  Canal 
and  West  Adams  street,  while  the  night  was  still 
youthful,  he  hurried  to  his  machine  shops  and 
found  the  man  he  wanted  on  duty,  as  usual.  The 
latter  was  surprised  by  John's  appearance  there 
at  such  an  hour,  and  asked  him  in  some  con 
fusion  if  anything  had  gone  wrong.  John 
merely  shook  his  head  and  motioned  for  him 
to  come  with  him  into  his  private  office.  The 
man  obeyed  with  a  bewildered  face,  and  sat 
down  across  the  table-desk  from  his  benefactor, 
waiting  respectfully  for  him  to  explain  the  rea 
son  for  his  presence  there  and  what  he  desired 
of  him.  Fixing  his  eyes  upon  the  man  with  an 
anxious  but  reassuring  look,  John  reminded 
him  of  the  curious  story  he  had  once  told  him 
of  his  adventure  with  the  bears  up  in  Canada 
and  the  child  he  had  rescued  and  taken  away 
with  him,  only  to  have  it  stolen  from  him  a 
month  later.  Then  he  said  he  had  found  out  cer 
tain  things  which  led  him  to  think  that  this 
child  was  living  and  could  now  be  located,  and 
went  on  to  relate  the  second  baby  episode.  The 


VISITORS— CONVERGING  LINES         323 

watchman's  face  lit  up  with  repressed  excite 
ment  and  dawning  relief  as  he  gave  ear  to  the 
retelling  of  this  other  incident,  rivaling  his  own 
experience  and  supplementing  it. 

At  its  conclusion  he  asked  if  the  driver  had 
given  anything  like  an  accurate  description  of 
the  woman's  dress  and  manner  and  general  ef 
fect,  and  how  he  had  described  the  baby.  It 
seems  he  had ;  and  when  these  observations  were 
detailed  to  him  he  jumped  to  his  feet,  exclaim 
ing  wildly: 

"It  was  she — it  was  she,  I  know!  I  can  re 
member  that  dress  of  hers  distinctly.  But  we 
can  do  something  more  to  prove  that  the  child 
was  the  same  one  I  took  from  the  bear's  lair,  if 
the  people  who  adopted  him  have  kept  the  little 
clothes  in  which  they  found  him;  for  you  say 
the  driver  declared,  that  when  he  took  the  baby 
away  from  the  orphanage,  where  it  had  worn 
the  regulation  uniform  dress  of  the  institution, 
he  discovered  they  had  redressed  it  in  the  ori 
ginal  articles  of  clothing  it  wore  when  brought 
there,  although  it  had  largely  outgrown  them. 
Well,  I  would  recognize  those  clothes  at  a 
glance !  Besides,  you  must  remember  that  the 
driver  spoke  also  of  a  gold  locket  and  chain  he 
found  about  the  baby's  neck  containing  a  writ 
ten  slip  of  paper  which  he  could  not  read,  but 
which  the  head  matron  of  the  half -orphan  asy- 


324  ERIC  MAROTTE 

lum  had,  after  reading,  with  some  embarrassed 
hesitation  replaced  in  the  locket,  telling  him  it 
gave  no  clew  to  the  baby's  parents.  If  he  didn't 
make  away  with  it,  but  left  it  on  the  child,  that 
alone  would  identify  the  child  as  the  same  one 
I  lost." 

John's  heart  gave  a  great,  exultant  bound; 
for,  in  his  later  youth  Jemima  had  often  shown 
him  those  very  tiny  garments,  which  she  meant 
always  to  keep  sacredly.  He  could  scarce  re 
strain  his  wild  desire  to  fly  to  his  home  with 
the  tremendous  good  news.  He  raised  his  hands 
nervously  to  his  eyes,  to  hide  his  glad  tears — 
his  almost  agonized  excess  of  delirious  joy  over 
the  coming  release  from  his  long  melancholy 
and  shamed  depression.  He  wanted  to  dance, 
to  skip  about,  to  laugh,  to  shout!  Controlling 
himself  heroically,  he  bade  the  overjoyed  watch 
man  telephone  for  one  of  the  men  of  the  day 
force  to  come  at  once  to  the  shops  and  take  his 
place  for  a  couple  of  hours,  so  he  could  accom 
pany  John  home  and  verify  their  hopeful  as 
sumptions  by  viewing  the  infantile ' '  wardrobe, ' ' 
which  John  knew  had  been  carefully  preserved. 
Prayers  of  heart-purifying  thanks  arose  to 
John's  lips,  and  the  blood  surged  through  his 
veins  at  fever  heat,  his  pulses  racing  with  his 
thoughts.  An  hour  subsequently  they  entered 
the  cottage  and  surprised  his  foster-parents  just 


VISITORS— CONVERGING  LINES         325 

as  they  were  starting  to  bed.  They  had  not  an 
ticipated  so  sudden  a  return  on  John's  part,  and, 
their  imaginations  catching  fire  from  the  evi 
dent  agitation  of  the  two  late-comers,  were  op 
pressed  by  visionary  apprehensions. 

John  quieted  their  nameless  fears,  and  told 
them,  for  the  first  time  and  in  as  few  words  as 
was  consistent  with  a  clear  understanding  of 
the  whole  affair,  the  insulting  defamation  of 
him  Stubbs  had  spread  about,  what  the  sub 
stantiating  of  that  report  had  led  him  to  dis 
cover  about  his  own  infantile  history,  and  what 
still  further  he  surmised. 

He  begged  Jemima  to  go  and  get  the  box 
containing  his  "foundling"  wraps  and  cloth 
ing.  They,  the  foster-parents,  sat  speechless, 
half  dazed  by  confusing  doubts  and  memories. 
Bousing  herself  with  difficulty  from  her  trance- 
like  absorption,  Jemima  went  to  get  the  pre 
cious  box.  The  instant  she  had  unwrapped 
its  outside  paper  and  removed  the  cover  of  the 
box,  John's  companion  clutched  in  both  hands 
the  first  garment  disclosed  and  held  it  out  at 
arm's  length  before  him.  One  look  satisfied 
him,  and  putting  it  humbly  to  his  lips,  he  faced 
the  family  and  cried  out  in  shaking  tones: 

"My  God!  They  are  the  identical  clothes 
in  which  I  first  found  him!  What  wonderful 
luck!  He  had  other  clothes  we  bought  for  him 


326  ERIC  MABOTTE 

in  Minneapolis ;  but — don 't  you  see  I — these  will 
enable  his  real  parents,  as  well  as  myself,  to 
identify  him!  And,  too,  even  after  twenty 
years!  Thank  God!  thank  God!  It  seems  to 
lift  the  weight  of  years  from  off  my  heart  and 
conscience!  And  to  think  that  this  baby  of 
mine  was  you,  John  Manning,  who  so  befriended 
me  when  I  was  like  a  dog  in  the  gutter,  with 
every  human  foot  raised  against  me  and  itch 
ing  to  kick  me  down!  And  that  when  I  told 
you  the  story  of  my  wonderful  experience  I  was 
actually  sitting  face  to  face  with  the  very  child 
I  had  so  long  sought  and  I  never  suspected  or 
dreamed  it!  It  is  stranger  than  any  fiction  1 
ever  read!  Who  could  have  foreseen  that  the 
bread  I  cast  in  my  humble  way  upon  the  water, 
would  be  returned  to  me  so  nobly  magnified 
after  all  these  years!  My  heart  is  very  full 
tonight.  After  this  miracle  of  Providence  I 
shall  never  despair  again  V9 

John  seized  the  man's  hand  firmly  in  silent 
comprehension  of  the  other  wondrous  reward 
his  own  inspired  act  of  simple,  natural  charity 
to  this  fellow-being  had  brought  so  indirectly 
to  himself;  and  he  there  resolved  that  now,  more 
than  ever,  he  would  never  forget  to  help  those 
whom  the  cold  and  cruel  world  of  men  forgot. 

After  the  watchman  had  gone  back  to  his 
work,  forgetting  in  his  excitement  and  his  cer- 


VISITORS— CONVERGING  LINES         327 

tainty  of  identification  of  the  baby's  clothes, 
all  about  the  locket  and  chain,  Jemima  came 
and  put  her  arms  around  John's  neck  and 
sobbed  her  perturbed  heart  out  on  his  breast, 
while  Jim  turned  away  to  hide  his  overpower 
ing  feelings. 

"0  John!  John!  John!  my  darling  son!  Do 
not  think  I  don't  rejoice  with  you  in  your  so- 
longed-for  discovery  of  the  key  to  your  true 
identity, "  wept  Jemima;  ubut,  oh!  it  will  break 
my  heart  to  lose  you  to  another,  even  if  that 
other  be  the  woman  of  whose  own  body  you 
were  once  a  part.  For  you  have  been  as  much 
my  son  to  me  as  the  strongest  ties  of  blood 
could  ever  have  made  you — and  you  are  all  we 
have — '  our  one  ewe  lamb ! '  ' ' 

John  gently  lifted  her  face  to  his  own  and 
kissed  her,  keeping  one  arm  about  her. 

" Don't  say  that,  mother.  You  know  I  shall 
always  love  and  revere  both  you  and  my  fos 
ter-father,  even  if  I  do  find  other  parents  await 
ing  my  coming.  They,  perhaps,  may  have 
passed  in  want  and  sorrow  the  long  years  you 
two  and  I  have  spent  in  love  and  happiness; 
and  your  own  hearts  are  too  large,  too  tender, 
to  wish  to  deny  them  now  a  little  of  that  sweet, 
mutual  solace  with  which  we  three  have,  by 
God's  mercy,  so  long  been  blessed.  I  cannot 
and  will  not  deny  my  own  blood,  but  my  heart 


328  ERIC  MAROTTE 

can  hold  your  love  with  theirs.  Remember,  too, 
that  I  may  never  find  them,  or  find  them  but  to 
find  them  dead,  the  only  consolation  left  to  me, 
their  memories  and  their  graves.  Be  comforted, 
parents  mine,  and  it  may  yet  be  well  with  all 
of  us." 

They  became  quieter  and  Jemima,  upon  a 
sudden  thought,  went  into  her  bedroom  and 
brought  out  the  little  locket  worn  by  John 
when  he  was  first  brought  to  them.  As  she  now 
opened  it,  out  fell  the  narrow  slip  of  paper  on 
which  was  written  the  cruelly  bitter  message 
she  had  kept  hidden  from  everyone  but  her 
husband. 

John  stooped  and  picked  it  up,  and  read 
thereon  the  fearful  curse  it  strove  to  put  upon 
him.  His  eyes  blazed,  the  hot  blood  lashed  his 
forehead,  his  hand  clenched,  crushing  the  vile 
paper;  but  he  compressed  his  lips  tightly  over 
the  passionate  invectives  that  welled  from  his 
heart.  Handing  it  back  reluctantly  to  his  fos 
ter-mother,  he  said: 

"Now  that  we  know  it  is  a  horrible,  inhuman 
lie,  I  can  try  to  forget  if  not  forgive  it;  but  if 
I  believed  that  the  woman  who  bore  me  ever 
voluntarily  wrote  it,  I  should  never  seek  her, 
nor  forgive  her. 

"You  have  taught  me  so  well  what  a  true 


VISITORS— CONVERGING  LINES         329 

mother  can  be,  that  I  should  simply  abhor  and 
shun  her! 

"Ah!  to  think,  mother,  that  all  this  time 
you  and  father  knew  of  this  fatal  blemish  sup 
posed  to  rest  upon  my  name  and  yet  were  too 
kind — too  noble — to  breathe  a  word  of  it  to  me 
or  others!  God  bless  you!  How  strong  must 
be  your  love  for  me!" 

He  buried  his  face  in  his  hands  and  wept 
uncontrolled  with  great,  tearing  sobs  that  shook 
him  to  his  very  soul.  The  scenes  and  emotional 
feelings  through  which  he  had  lately  moved,  a 
leading  actor,  in  such  quick  succession,  had 
broken  down  the  barrier  of  his  long  years  of 
mental  and  heart-wearying  isolation,  and  his 
unnatural  reserve  was  swept  away  forever.  He 
had  become  a  child  again,  and  could  believe — 
his  doubts  and  darkness  fled. 

Growing  calmer,  the  three  talked  on  of  many 
things,  but  principally  of  the  measures  best  to 
be  taken  in  a  renewed  attempt  to  discover,  liv 
ing  or  dead,  the  lost  parents.  For  the  Man 
nings  did  not  hesitate  for  a  second  in  declaring 
this  the  one  great  thing  to  be  considered.  It 
was  one  o'clock  in  the  morning  before  a  feas 
ible  plan  was  settled  upon,  which,  though  it 
might  be  far-fetched  and  uncertain  of  result, 
appeared  to  be  about  the  surest  and  most  prac 
tical  method  of  procedure.  This  plan  was,  for 


330  ERIC  MAROTTE 

John  to  despatch  the  watchman  who  had  taken 
him  from  the  bear's  den,  back  over  the  route 
by  which  he  had  come  on  his  memorable  flight 
into  the  United  States,  with  abundant  funds 
and  instructions  to  start  out  as  nearly  as  pos 
sible  from  the  place  where  he  had  found  the 
child,  and  follow  the  river  down  its  course,  ask 
ing  of  loggers  and  townspeople  and  the  local 
authorities  as  he  went,  the  information  he 
sought,  and  following  up  to  wherever  it  led, 
any  slightest  clew  they  could  give  him.  When 
he  should  have  gathered  enough  evidence  to 
warrant  his  sending  for  him,  John  was  to  go  on 
himself  and  take  charge  of  the  "  chase "  per 
sonally. 

John  was  well  aware  that  this  man  would 
willingly  brave  any  hardship  to  serve  him,  and 
that  he  had  never  ceased  to  regret  his  own  in 
ability  to  restore  him  to  his  parents,  from 
whom,  in  a  manner,  he  had  taken  him ;  and  after 
the  first  of  the  year  he  could  be  spared  from 
the  shops  for  a  while  readily  enough,  as  a  por 
tion  of  the  day  force  was  to  be  temporarily 
laid  off  on  account  of  changes  to  be  made  in 
the  plant  and  one  of  these  men  would  be  glad 
of  the  chance  to  take  his  place  on  the  night 
watch. 

After  he  went  to  bed  that  night  (in  the  little 
room  that  had  been  built  onto  the  cottage  for 


VISITORS— CONVERGING  LINES         331 

his  especial  use),  John  lay  awake  for  many 
minutes  trying  to  realize  what  all  these  new 
revelations  meant  to  him.  How,  if  everything 
turned  out  as  he  hoped,  it  would  remove  all  ob 
stacles  in  the  way  of  his  marriage  with  Gretchen 
— how  it  would  give  to  him  those  rights  and 
ties  of  blood  over  the  lack  of  which  he  had  so 
long  and  sadly  brooded — how  it  would,  in  all 
likelihood,  absolve  him  forever  from  that  night 
mare  of  his  waking  days,  the  unchangeable 
curse  of  color — how  he  was  now  born  anew  unto 
all  the  joys  of  a  new-found  world  of  unalloyed 
happiness.  He  dropped  asleep  at  last  to  dream 
of  hunting  for  hours,  through  impenetrable 
Canadian  forests  and  along  icy,  turbulent 
streams,  elusive  shapes  that  turned  and  smiled 
at  him,  only  to  utterly  and  inevitably  disappear 
as  he  rushed  towards  them  with  outstretched 
arms,  crying: 

" Father!  Mother!  Wait  for  me!  It  is  I! " 
and  fell  down  weeping  and  despairing  in  the 
cold,  deep  snow. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  DENOUEMENT 

HILE  John  was  thus  making  new 
history  for  himself  and  those  he 
loved,  in  uncovering  the  long  bur* 
ied  knowledge  of  his  own  origin, 
Gretchen  and  her  mother  and  father,  all  un 
aware  of  the  important  and  prophetic  happen 
ings  and  developments  that  were  to  affect  so 
materially  their  future  lives  and  happiness, 
were  busily  entertaining  their  guests,  who  en 
tered  with  zestful  enthusiasm  into  all  their 
plans  for  them.  The  first  two  evenings  they 
spent  with  them  at  holiday  parties  on  the  South 
side,  where  introductions  to  the  Marottes  were 
much  in  demand  and  the  visitors  began  to  get 
that  intimate  insight  into  the  lives  of  a  city's 
residents  which  no  sojourn  in  any  hotel  can 
ever  give  one. 

One  may  travel,  as  the  writer  has  done,  over 
all  Europe  and  North  America,  and  if  he  stops 
only  at  high-priced  hotels,  he  will  come  home 
with  little  or  no  real  knowledge  of  the  habits 
and  usages,  joys  and  sorrows,  of  the  people 
indigenous  to  those  countries  through  which  he 
hurries;  for  life  in  the  best — the  principal — 
hotels  is  much  the  same  the  world  over. 

332 


THE  DENOUEMENT  333 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  day  before  Christmas 
Mrs.  Marotte  sat  with  Gretchen  in  the  latter 's 
combined  dressing  and  bedroom  while  the  young 
girl,  who  had  just  bathed,  was  laying  out  and 
donning  her  evening  clothes.  Even  a  woman 
must  sometimes  acknowledge  the  extreme, 
wildly-attractive  beauty  and  charm  of  some 
other  creature  of  her  own  sex,  and  Mrs.  Marotte 
was  almost  startled  by  the  perfection  of 
Gretchen 's  form,  disclosed  by  her  negligee — the 
delicious,  cool  curvings  of  her  arms  and  should 
ers,  the  tawny,  creamy  clearness  of  her  skin, 
the  blossoming  voluptuousness  of  her  limbs  and 
bosoms. 

As  the  girl  slipped  on  a  dainty  dressing 
gown  of  pale  blue,  ruffled-edged  chiffon  laid 
over  a  soft  lining  of  French-gray  silk,  her  friend 
called  to  her  to  come  and  sit  beside  her  on  the 
antique,  high-backed  sofa,  saying  she  wished 
to  talk  seriously  with  her. 

Gretchen  complied  with  a  laughing  smile 
and,  leaning  back  gracefully  with  one  bare  arm 
thrown  carelessly  over  the  high  end  of  the  old 
Colonial  settee,  her  nether  limbs  crossed  com 
fortably  and  showing  her  shapely,  tapering  bare 
ankles  and  her  perfect,  unmarred  feet  enclosed 
in  low  lounging  slippers,  she  prepared  to  listen 
to  the  " serious  talk"  of  her  beloved  guest. 


334  ERIC  MAROTTE' 

With  becoming  diffidence  Mrs.  Marotte  com 
menced: 

"Gretchen,  dear,  you  have  never  told  me 
anything  about  your  little  love  affairs,  such  as 
most  girls  of  your  age  are  generally  eager  to 
confide  to  their  close,  bosom  friends.  Have  you 
no  beaux  or  lovers?'' 

Gretchen  blushed,  and  was  still  for  a  mo 
ment.  Thinking  she  might  have  offended  her, 
the  elder  woman  hastened  to  speak  again,  in 
apology  of  her  directness.  But  Gretchen  held 
up  one  pink-palmed  hand  in  mild  protest. 

"I  understand  you  perfectly,  Mrs.  Marotte 
— it  was  a  natural  inquiry  on  your  part,  but  my 
situation  in  regard  to  such  matters  is  so  peculiar 
that  I  hesitate  to  speak  of  it  to  anyone  at  all. 
I  believe,  nevertheless,  that  now,  since  you  have 
asked  me  this  question,  I  will  tell  you  all  about 
it,  as  I  have  such  genuine  confidence  in  your 
good  heart  and  wise  judgment  that  you  may 
even  be  of  help  to  me  in  deciding  my  action  in 
relation  to  certain  things  I  have  been  unable 
to  bring  myself  either  to  do,  or  to  leave  undone 
eventually. 

"Yes,  my  dear,  I  have  a  'beau,'  as  you  call 
him,  whom  I  dearly  love  and  who,  I  am  sure, 
adores  me.  We  have  been  playmates,  compan 
ions  and  lovers  from  our  earliest  childhood 
days  and  are  perfectly  congenial  and  adapted 


THE  DENOUEMENT  335 

to  each  other.  But  there  is  a  serious  drawback 
(at  least  it  seems  so  to  him)  that  prevents  our 
closer  union.  I  would  overlook  this  in  a  minute, 
but  he  is  too  proud  and  self-sacrificing  to  let  me 
do  so;  and  I  am  too  fond  of  him  to  force  him 
into  doing  anything  he  might  afterwards  regret 
in  bitterness  of  spirit. 

"Do  you  know,  I  sometimes  think  that  the 
stubbornness  of  a  rare  and  high  nobility  is 
harder  to  overcome  than  that  of  pure  selfish 
ness  1" 

Mrs.  Marotte,  deeply  impressed  by  the  dig 
nity  and  pathos  of  her  changed  manner,  asked 
quickly : 

"What  impediment  can  there  be  that  could 
possibly  cause  him  to  hesitate  in  claiming 
you — you  with  the  form  of  a  goddess  and  the 
disposition  of  an  angel?  Why,  I  know  men 
who  have  sold  their  souls  for  women  with  not 
one  half  your  fascinations!  He  must  be  mad!" 

"If  he  is,"  countered  Gretchen,  "his  is  the 
madness  of  the  soul — not  of  the  mind.  I  can 
best  explain  Ms  position  to  you,  by  telling  you 
the  story  of  his  life.  It  is  a  most  pathetic  and 
noble  one,  and  your  own  kind  heart  will  bleed 
for  him  before  I  have  done  with  it." 

Mrs.  Marotte  took  one  of  Gretchen 's  soft 
hands  in  her  own  and  held  it  caressingly  while 
she  hung  with  close  attention  upon  her  words. 


336  ERIC  MAROTTE 

Gretchen's  face  paled,  and  her  lips  opened  and 
closed  tremulously,  but  then  grew  firm  as  she 
resumed : 

"Exactly  twenty-one  years  ago  today, "  she 
began,  "a  foundling  was  left  and  discovered 
at  the  foot  of  the  front  steps  of  a  little  cottage 
not  two  blocks  from  this  house.  The  childless 
man  and  wife  who  lived  there,  considered  it  a 
blessing  sent  to  them  by  God  on  the  very  anni 
versary  of  that  day  on  which  he  had  sent  his 
own  Son  to  bless  the  world,  two  thousand  years 
before.  They  were  filled  with  happiness  and 
glory,  and  kept  him  (for  it  was  a  boy),  and 
they  named  him  John. 

"The  child  throve,  and  grew  up  strong, 
obedient  and  lovely  to  look  upon;  and  7  came 
to  know  him  well.  He  was  legally  adopted  by 
his  foster-parents,  who  were  in  moderate  cir 
cumstances,  but  thrifty,  and  owned  the  cottage 
in  which  they  lived. 

"He  and  I  attended  the  same  school  and  al 
ways  played  together.  We  graduated  from 
common  school  at  the  same  time,  and  again  were 
classmates  and  again  graduated  together  from 
high-school,  and  he  was  the  valedictorian  of 
our  class. 

"One  day  there  was  a  terrible  fire  here  on 
the  'Island,'  devastating  many  acres  of  stored 
lumber,  and  I,  who  had  been  playing  with  other 


THE  DENOUEMENT  337 

children  among  the  lumber-piles,  was  deserted 
by  the  rest  in  their  fright,  at  the  first  alarm, 
and,  becoming  confused  in  the  labyrinths  of 
boards  and  timbers,  was  caught  and  hemmed  in 
by  the  flames,  and  there,  all  alone,  faced  death 
in  its  most  frightful  form. 

i  l  Thousands  were  pressing  to  my  rescue,  but 
none  could  reach  me.  I  stood  upon  a  high,  hol 
low  square  of  flaming  timbers  and  watched  their 
fruitless  efforts,  shouting  and  waving  my  dress- 
sash  to  direct  their  way  to  me.  When  I  saw, 
as  I  thought,  that  all  was  over  for  me,  I  fell  to 
the  ground  inside  the  square  and  fainted  away. 
"Then  that  boy  came  to  me  through  the  red- 
hot  blasts  of  a  living  hell  upon  the  wings  of  his 
unconquerable  love  for  me,  and  carried  me  upon 
his  shoulders,  up  ten  feet  against  the  burning 
boards  and  down  the  outer  side  of  the  square, 
which  fell  in  a  fiery  crash  as  we  struck  the 
ground.  He  dragged  me  a  hundred  feet  and 
into  a  miniature  tunnel  known  to  but  a  few  of 
us — once  built  in  play  by  ourselves  and  our 
young  playmates  and  long  ago  forgotten. 

"I  stayed  with  him,  perforce,  in  that  narrow 
haven,  with  the  hellish  flames  licking  at  its  en 
trances,  all  through  that  night,  and  there  I 
learned  how  much  I  loved  him.  We  walked 
out  hand-in-hand  next  morning,  practically  un- 


338  ERIC  MAROTTE 

scathed,  from  that  blackened  pyre,  like  resur 
rected  spirits  from  the  grave. 

"Our  lives  went  on  as  before  and  I  was 
happy;  but  the  boy's  whole  existence  was  em 
bittered  by  a  certain  disability  (he  named  it 
1  curse')  which  I,  myself,  ignored,  but  which 
continued  to  prey  upon  his  mind  until  I  some 
times  feared  for  his  reason. 

"He  at  first  declined  to  accept  the  ten  thou 
sand  dollars  reward  my  dear  father  had  of 
fered  for  my  seemingly  impossible  rescue,  say 
ing  that '  what  he  had  done  he  would  never  have 
done  for  money';  but  upon  the  reluctant  acqui 
escence  of  his  foster-parents  in  its  acceptance 
and  the  insistent  and  almost  tearful  entreaties 
of  both  my  father  and  mother,  and  myself,  he 
finally,  though  unwillingly,  consented  to  allow 
it  to  be  invested  for  his  benefit,  in  order  that 
he  might  gain  his  heart's  desire  of  entering 
and  finishing  Yale  University  through  his  care 
ful  use  of  the  income  from  it  added  to  what 
his  foster-parents  could  spare  him. 

"The  boy  passed  the  entrance  examinations 
without  conditions  and  was  matriculated  into 
Yale,  and  four  years  later  graduated  from  that 
great  university  with  honors.  He  returned  to 
Chicago,  and,  putting  on  overalls,  went  into  a 
machine  shop  and  worked  his  way  up  from  the 
bottom  of  the  ladder  to  a  secretaryship  in  the 


THE  DENOUEMENT  339 

company  in  two  short  years.  He  then  became 
one  of  the"  three  controlling  stockholders  of  the 
owning  corporation  into  which  the  concern  was 
organized  at  his  suggestion,  through  the  wise 
reinvestment  of  the  ten  thousand  dollars  prin 
cipal  of  the  fund  held  in  trust  for  him  by  my 
father  and  his  foster-father,  in  its  stock,  to 
gether  with  its  accumulated  increment  and  the 
savings  from  his  own  wages. 

"He  has  constantly  given  his  personal  at 
tention  and  charity,  yet  without  seeking  notori 
ety,  to  helping  the  fallen  to  rise  again.  He  has 
never  uttered  an  untruth  nor  feared  another 
man. 

"He  is  the  noblest  human  creature  I  have 
ever  met  or  can  ever  hope  to  meet —  and  I  love 
him,  and  he  loves  me  as  man  has  seldom  loved 
a  woman — and  yet,  he  says  he  cannot  marry 
me."  Her  voice  trailed  off  in  a  tragic  whisper. 

"But,  dear  heart,  why  can  he  not?"  inter 
posed  Mrs.  Marotte  in  tantalized  remonstrance. 

"Ah!  that  is  the  pity,  the  tragedy  of  it — 
the  soul-searing  pathos  of  his  story!  It  is  be 
cause  his  foster-parents  are  Negroes  and,  while 
he  is,  to  all  appearances,  as  white  as  you  or  I, 
the  burden  and  preponderance  of  what  little 
evidence  has  yet  been  found  is,  that  he,  too,  is 
black — or  has  the  taint  of  Negro  blood  within 
his  veins.  In  fact,  certain  unscrupulous,  cold- 


340  ERIC  MAROTTE 

blooded  and  purse-proud  persons  have  taken 
side  with  a  former  school-boy  rival  of  iris  whom 
he  once  worsted  in  a  personal  encounter  brought 
on  by  that  rival's  unbearable,  continuous  af 
fronts  and  indignities.  This  enemy  of  his  (and 
of  mine ;  for  he  long  persecuted  me  with  his  un 
welcome  attentions)  now  arrogantly  and  mali 
ciously  claims  to  have  secured  damning  proof, 
not  only  of  my  lover's  taint  of  color,  but  of  his 
illegitimacy  as  well.  And  so  the  man  I  love  is 
gradually  becoming  socially  ostracised  by  those 
who  are  not  fit  to  kiss  his  feet. 

"Yet,  I  know  that  he  is  not  a  Negro.  My 
woman's — my  lover's — instinct  tells  me  that  it 
cannot  be  so.  I  know  it  by  that  same  sixth 
sense  that  tells  you  your  own  long-departed  son 
is  still  alive.  And,  too,  in  all  the  years  of  our 
close  intimacy  I  have  never  observed  the  slight 
est  indication  of  such  a  thing. 

"But  it  is  slowly  breaking  his  great  heart 
— this  never-ending,  hope-benumbing,  joy-defer 
ring,  cruel  suspense;  and  if  that  breaks,  my 
own  heart,  too,  must  break!" 

As  Gretchen  ceased  speaking  her  voice  rose 
into  a  tortured  wail  and  she  threw  herself  on 
her  friend's  breast  in  a  torrent  of  convulsive 
sobbing  and  blinding  tears — sobbing,  sobbing, 
sobbing  as  though  her  heart  indeed  must  break. 

Mrs.  Marotte,  shocked  and  terrified  at  the 


THE  DENOUEMENT  341 

impossibility  of  this  young  girl's  infatuation 
with  a  Negro  of  questionable  birth,  and  by  the 
wild  abandon  of  the  reaction  of  her  pent-up 
misery,  held  her  close  and  soothed  her.  She 
thought  rapidly,  pondering  over  what  to  say 
to  her — how  to  advise  her  in  justice  to  both 
herself  and  her  noble-hearted,  but  doubly  un 
fortunate  lover.  At  last  a  dim  light  gleamed 
athwart  her  darker  musings,  and  she  asked 
quietly: 

"Cannot  I  meet  this  young  man  you  love 
while  I  am  here?  I  could  never  disregard  him 
after  all  you  have  told  me,  but  if  I  might  see 
and  talk  with  him  without  his  being  aware 
that  I  was  in  your  confidence — as  a  mere  trav 
eling  acquaintance  of  your's  and  your  mother's 
— I  feel  that  something  will  come  of  it  that 
will  help  you  both,  perhaps  more  than  even  I 
can  imagine  at  this  moment. 9 ' 

"0,  yes!  you  must  be  sure  to  meet  him  now. 
He  will  be  back  from  Milwaukee,  where  he  has 
gone  to  trace  a  strong  clew  to  the  real  circum 
stances  of  his  birth  and  parentage,  for  Christ 
mas,  and  he  and  his  foster-parents,  the  Mann 
ings,  will  be  at  our  Christmas  party  tomorrow 
night.  But  do,  please,  be  very  careful  not  to 
disclose  to  him  by  any  slightest  word  or  un 
thinking  action  that  I  have  been  so  frank  with 
you  in  regard  to  our  peculiar  mutual  relations. 


342  ERIC  MAROTTE 

"He  is  highly  sensitive  to  the  impression 
he  makes  on  other  persons,  because  of  that 
sense  of  personal  disability  which  is  ever  up 
permost  in  his  own  mind,  and  just  now,  I  fear, 
this  susceptibility  is  aggravated  by  his  antici 
pation  of  the  probably  unfavorable  results  of 
his  present  looking  up  of  the  base  calumny  put 
in  circulation  by  that  enemy  of  ours  of  whom  I 
have  just  told  you.  He  has  not  informed  me 
yet  of  his  progress,  and,  for  his  own  sake,  I 
dread  to  ask  him." 

Mrs.  Marotte  gave  the  implied  promise,  but 
requested  that  when  the  festive  evening  came 
Gretchen  point  out  to  her  her  lover  from  a  little 
distance  before  introducing  him,  so  she  could 
study  him  unrestrictedly  and  without  his  knowl 
edge  for  a  few  minutes.  Gretchen  now  bathed 
her  smarting  eyes,  and  her  friend  dressed  her 
and  coiled  her  beautiful,  heavy  hair  at  the  nape 
of  her  neck  with  deft  fingers  and  admiring 
glances.  And  together  they  went  down  to  join 
the  rest  of  the  two  families  at  .supper,  just  as 
the  old-fashioned,  turbaned  darky  cook  rang 
the  big,  old-fashioned  supper  bell  in  the  good, 
old-fashioned  way. 

The  Hummelmuellers  had  fixed  upon  Christ 
mas  night  instead  of  Christmas  eve,  as  the  date 
of  their  old-fashioned  "  home-party, "  with  its 
giant  Christmas  tree  laden  with  presents  and  all 


VIEW    TAKEN     FROM    CHICAGO    COURT    HOUSE,    IN     18S9,    LOOKING 

SOUTHWEST    AND    SHOWING    THE    CORNER    OF    LA    SALLE 

AND     WASHINGTON     STREETS 


THE  DENOUEMENT  343 

the  rooms  festooned  and  strung  with  evergreens 
and  bright  with  flowers  and  wide,  deep-red  rib 
bons.  Their  southern  darky  mammy  was  in  all 
her  glory  as  chef  to  the  occasion,  bossing  about 
with  professional  superciliousness  the  white 
neighbors  who  came  to  help  prepare  the  great 
annual  feast  of  plenty.  She  was  so  funny  that 
they  forgot  to  kick,  and  did  just  as  she  directed, 
that  tomorrow  ' i  everything  might  be  lovely  and 
the  goose  hang  high."  The  hospitable  Hum- 
melmuellers  had  not  seen  John  since  his  return 
from  Milwaukee  the  day  before,  and  they 
looked  forward  with  inquisitive  longing  to  his 
arrival  with  his  foster-father  and  mother  on 
the  occasion  of  this,  their  principal  holiday 
event.  More  particularly  so  in  view  of  the  dou 
ble  significance  the  day  held  for  them  as  being 
the  anniversary  of  the  coming  of  both  Christ 
and  John. 

The  Christmas  dusk  descended  from  the  still, 
gray  clouds;  the  air  was  brisk  and  keen;  the 
snow  lay  deep,  covering  with  its  mantle  of  ideal 
izing  purity  and  loveliness  the  realism  of  all 
outwardly  sordid,  ugly  things.  Everything  was 
in  readiness  at  the  old  time-hallowed  homestead. 
An  indescribable  atmosphere  of  peace,  good- will 
and  jovial  mystery  pervaded  every  room,  for 
God  and  Love  and  Hope  were  there.  The  great 
evergreen  behind  the  close-folded  doors  of  the 


344  ERIC  MAROTTE 

library  still  reigned  in  lonely  splendor,  but  the 
balance  of  the  rooms  were  comfortably  filled 
with  neighbors  and  invited  friends  by  half -past 
seven  o'clock. 

No  attempt  was  made  to  receive  them  and 
introduce  them  through  a  "bawler-out"  in  the 
stiff,  formal  manner  of  modern  social  entertain 
ments,  as  the  guests  were  all  mutual  acquaint 
ances.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hummelmueller  moved 
about  among  them  hospitably,  giving  each  a 
cordial  hand-shake  and  a  genial  word,  while 
Gretchen  chaperoned  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Marotte. 

The  floor  of  the  long  double  parlor  had  been 
covered  with  canvas  for  the  dancing  and  over 
in  one  corner  of  the  hall,  behind  the  wide  stair 
case  and  screened  by  palms  waving  in  the  draft 
from  the  constantly  opening  and  closing  front 
door,  six  members  of  Johnny  Hand's  Immortal 
Band,  without  which  no  really  swell  Chicago 
reception  or  dinner-dance  could  be  complete, 
discoursed  its  liveliest  strains,  interspersed  with 
Christmas  hymns  and  carols,  the  children  ac 
companying  the  latter  with  their  shrill,  buoyant 
young  voices. 

About  eight  o'clock  Mrs.  Marotte  stood  talk 
ing  with  Gretchen  at  the  rear  end  of  the  im 
provised  dancing  floor,  where  the  recess  of  a 
bay  window  afforded  a  partial  privacy.  As  the 
former  looked  up  and  across  the  bobbing  heads 


THE  DENOUEMENT  345 

of  the  young  people,  John  came  to  the  hall 
doorway  of  the  front  parlor.  He  was  alone.  He 
remained  standing  there  for  a  minute  or  two, 
letting  his  eyes  wander  over  the  assembled 
faces,  seeking  that  of  the  l  '  one  girl  in  the  world 
for  him." 

Suddenly  Mrs.  Marotte  gasped  and  pressed 
with  her  hand  her  throbbing  throat.  She 
nudged  Gretchen 's  elbow  gently  and  whispered 
with  catching  breath: 

" Quick,  quick!  Gretchen,  who  is  that  tall, 
dark  young  man  at  the  parlor  door?" 

Then  Gretchen  saw  him  and  started  towards 
him  involuntarily,  but,  remembering  Mrs. 
Marotte 's  urgent  request  to  point  John  out  to 
her  before  introducing  him,  stepped  back  in 
stead,  behind  a  convenient  palm,  and  answered 
her  friend  archly: 

"Oh!  I  almost  forgot  our  agreement.  That 
is  John,  my  *  little  beau. '  How  strange  that  you 
should  note  him  so  quickly!" 

The  other  woman  did  not  reply,  but  stood 
rigid,  staring  with  dilating  eyes  at  John's  ap 
proaching  figure,  just  as  though  she  saw  a  half 
familiar  apparition.  Gretchen's  own  eyes  fol 
lowed  her  friend 's  fascinated  gaze,  and  her  heart 
thumped  to  suffocation  as  she  perceived  upon 
her  lover's  face,  not  its  usual  expression  of  dif 
fidence  and  melancholy,  but  the  light  of  a  great 


346  ERIC  MAROTTE 

joy.  It  was  scarcely  a  minute  before  John  dis 
covered  her  retreat  and  came  up  to  her  with 
swift,  eager,  impatient  steps.  Giving  but  a 
glance  and  a  slight  bow  of  deference  to  her 
companion,  he  clasped  both  Gretchen's  hands 
in  his  and  looked  long  and  deep  down  into  her 
sparkling  eyes,  his  whole  soul  speaking  through 
his  own,  until  Gretchen's  neck  and  features 
were  burnt  crimson  by  the  answering  blushes 
of  love.  Happiness — nay,  ecstasy,  was  embla 
zoned  in  undeniable  letters  on  his  every  fea 
ture,  and  ere  he  spoke  a  word  Gretchen  cried 
out  to  him  softly: 

"Oh!  John!  my  love!  I  read  good  news  in 
your  dear  face!  What  is  it?  Tell  me!  You 
are  so  changed,  so  lovely,  I  cannot  be  misled 
about  it." 

John  raised  her  shaking  hands  to  his  lips 
and  kissed  them  rapturously  again  and  again, 
but  no  word  came — only  his  lips  dumbly  but 
surely  formed  a  wondrous  "Yes!" 

Tears  of  unutterable  pride  and  love  and 
glory  transformed  her  awe-filled  eyes  to  liquid 
gems.  Recovering  command  of  her  emotions 
and  remembering  the  friend  beside  her,  she 
turned  to  her,  and  placing  a  hand  affection 
ately  upon  Mrs.  Marotte's  arm,  drew  her  to 
wards  John  and  introduced  him.  The  older 
woman  had  watched  them,  pale  and  tense,  dur- 


THE  DENOUEMENT  347 

ing  their  lovers7  greeting,  and  as  John  came 
forward  her  eyes  never  left  his  face.  There 
was  a  great  dread — a  great  hunger  in  them. 

"Mrs.  Marotte,  this  is  John  Manning,  of 
whom  I  have  told  you  so  many  interesting 
things."  "John,  take  Mrs.  Marotte  to  a  seat 
and  tell  her  what  a  bold,  bad  girl  I  seem  to  one 
who  really  and  truly  knows  me,"  she  banter- 
ingly  added. 

John  gave  an  arm  to  this  new  acquaintance 
reluctantly  and  with  a  remonstrant  look  at 
Gretchen,  who  skipped  away  to  meet  other 
guests,  and  conducted  his  charge  to  the  nearest 
unoccupied  chairs.  He  had  heard  Gretchen 
speak  of  her  gratefully  some  time  before,  as 
her  kindly  chaperon  at  Montreal,  and  was  pre 
disposed  to  like  her  for  Gretchen 's  sake;  but, 
just  like  a  man,  he  couldn't  see  why  Gretchen 
should  run  off  and  leave  him  with  this  strange 
woman  on  his  hands  when  he  had  so  much  he 
was  dying  to  say  to  Gretchen  herself  at  the  mo 
ment.  * '  Women  were  funny  about  such  things, ' ' 
he  thought. 

Mrs.  Marotte,  who  was  evidently  restrain 
ing  her  impatience  to  talk  with  him  with  the 
utmost  difficulty,  read  his  thoughts,  and  smiled 
to  herself;  but  she  waited  to  catch  his  eyes  and 
hold  them  before  giving  speech  to  the  amazing 
things  that  filled  her  mind.  After  a  short  in- 


348  ERIC  MAROTTE' 

terval  of  small-talk,  during  which  she  still 
closely  observed  and  scrutinized  his  slightest 
movement  and  peculiarity  of  manner,  and  unob 
trusively  surveyed  him  from  head  to  foot  and 
back  again  and  tried  to  analyze  the  tones  of 
his  voice,  she  could  contain  herself  no  longer, 
and,  without  leading  up  to  the  subject  in  any 
way,  asked  him  abruptly: 

"Mr.  Manning,  pardon  my  freedom — I  as 
sure  you  I  am  actuated  by  no  idle  curiosity  in 
asking  you  this — but  has  Miss  Gretchen  ever 
related  to  you  the  story  I  told  her  one  night 
in  Montreal?" 

1  '  No,  Madam ;  I  think  not.  I — I  'm  sure  not, ' ' 
replied  he,  perplexedly. 

"Ah!  Will  you  mind  very  much  if  I  tell 
you  myself,  now?  I  will  make  it  as  short  as  I 
can,  and  I  believe  it  will  interest  you  strongly.  * ' 

Wrought  upon  by  the  suddenness  and 
strangeness  of  her  proposal,  John  could  only 
falter,  "Not  at  all,  Mrs.  Marotte;  please  let 
me  hear  it." 

Then  hurriedly  and  briefly,  in  tones  low  but 
vibrating  with  contagious  feeling,  Mrs.  Marotte 
outlined  to  him  the  substance  of  the  anecdote 
concerning  the  loss  of  her  only  son  so  many 
years  ago,  which  Gretchen  had  heard  two  years 
before,  but  had  never  thought  to  repeat  to 
John. 


THE  DENOUEMENT  349 

As  she  proceeded,  liis  face  grew  grave,  Ms 
eyes  expressed  a  wondering  alertness.  He 
waited,  breathless,  for  the  story 's  climax.  At 
its  conclusion,  Mrs.  Marotte,  still  drawing  his 
charmed  attention  to  herself,  went  on  to  tell 
him  what  Gretchen  had  detailed  to  her  (in  a 
confidence  which  she  now  felt  called  upon  to 
abuse  for  a  greater  end)  of  his  unknown  par 
entage  and  early  abandonment  to  the  "  tender 
mercies ' '  of  the  world,  and  asked  him  pointedly 
what  further  discoveries  in  regard  to  his  earlier 
life  he  had  made  during  his  just-ended  journey, 
saying  she  knew  he  had  not  yet  informed 
Gretchen  of  them,  but  that  they  must  soon  be 
come  public  property  and  she  begged  him  to 
enlighten  herself  now. 

Wholly  unnoted  by  the  two  in  their  keen 
engrossment,  Mr.  Marotte  had  stopped  directly 
in  front  of  them  at  this  point  in  their  conversa 
tion,  waiting  to  be  introduced  to  the  good  look 
ing  young  man  who  seemed  to  be  getting  on 
so  famously  with  his  charming  wife.  But  be 
fore  he  could  address  the  latter,  John  began 
the  rapid  relation  to  Mrs.  Marotte  of  an  epi 
tome  of  the  two  equally  strange  adventures 
which  he  had  but  yesterday  pieced  together  into 
one  bizarre  fabric;  and  the  older  man  stood 
there  before  them,  entranced,  spellbound,  weigh 
ing  the  importance  of  every  sentence.  For  his 


350  ERIC  MAROTTE 

wife  had  but  that  morning  made  plain  to  him 
the  unique  relations  between  Gretchen  and  a 
certain  young  man  of  mysterious  antecedents, 
and  whom  he  surmised  to  be  no  other  than  the 
one  now  telling  such  extraordinary  things. 

Mrs.  Marotte's  heart  raced  tumultuously;  her 
breath  came  in  painful,  catching  sighs,  and  a 
faintness,  as  if  the  truth  were  too  great  to  grasp, 
oppressed  her  as  John  passed  from  one  to  the 
other  of  his  two  counter  tales. 

As  he  ended  his  final  peroration  with  the 
complete  dove-tailing  union  of  the  correspond 
ing  parts  of  the  separate  stories  and  the  details 
of  his  almost  hopeless  but  unbending  determina 
tion  to  begin  at  once  the  renewed  search  for  his 
own  parents  through  the  Canadian  wilds,  her 
eyes  left  his  face  and  met  her  husband's  en 
lightened  glance  resting  intently  upon  John's 
face.  With  a  surprised  exclamation  she  dis 
cerned  a  notable  likeness  in  the  faces  of  the 
two  men — a  noticeable  resemblance  in  their 
build  and  carriage.  John's  gaze  followed  hers 
and  took  in  the  quiet  gentleman  who  had  so 
obviously  been  eavesdropping  upon  them. 
Quickly,  Mrs.  Marotte  touched  the  young  man 's 
sleeve — 

"John,  my  husband." 

The  same  thought  ran  through  the  mind  of 
each  of  them  and  caused  them  to  regard  each 


THE  DENOUEMENT  351 

other  with  quickened  pulses,  shyly  held  in  thrall 
by  the  immensity  of  their  conception — checked 
by  a  new-born  restraint  and  with  the  incredu 
lous  eyes  of  those  about  to  prove  the  enchanted 
web  that  Fate  has  woven  about  them.  Quietly 
and  solemnly,  Mr.  Marotte  sat  down  beside  the 
other  two.  Question  succeeded  question  and 
answer  supplemented  answer  between  them  as 
they  fitted  together  mentally  the  living  blocks 
of  the  three  different  stories  with  ever-narrow 
ing  sureness  and  completeness. 

By  now  Gretchen,  missing  them  among  the 
other  guests,  approached  to  find  them.  Struck 
by  the  rapt  looks  on  their  faces  and  their  close 
intimacy  of  position  for  such  a  brief  acquain 
tance,  she  gaped  in  wide-eyed  wonder  at  the  trio. 
Catching  sight  of  her,  Mrs.  Marotte  jumped  to 
her  feet,  and,  clasping  her  around  the  waist, 
covered  her  dumbfounded  young  face  with 
smothering  kisses,  while  John,  in  speechless  awe 
and  veneration,  watched  dumbly  these  three 
ideal  beings  so  nearly  bound  to  him  by  such 
endearing  ties. 

Both  of  the  men  had  arisen  on  the  same  im 
pulse. 

"What — what  has  happened?"  gasped 
Gretchen.  * '  You — you  frighten  me ! ' ' 

"  Gretchen,  dearest,  do  you  know  who  this 


352  ERIC  MAROTTE' 

young  man  is?"  asked  Mrs.  Marrotte,  senten- 
tiously. 

"I  know  only  that  he  is  he — John  Manning 
— that  is  enough  for  me ! ' ' 

"No!  dear  heart;  he  is  not  John  Manning — 
he  is  Eric  Marotte!  our  own  long  lost  son! 
My  mother-instinct  has  told  me  all  along  that 
he  could  not  be  dead ! ' ' 

"My  God!  Francois,  do  you  realize  that  this 
boy  is  our  son — our  son! — our  long-mourned, 
never-forgotten  baby?"  And  with  a  low,  in 
articulate,  crooning  cry,  she  flung  herself  upon 
the  trembling  boy,  kissing  his  mouth  and  eyes 
and  hair  and  hands  with  streaming  tears  and 
spasmodic  sobbing — in  a  paroxysm  of  famished 
motherhood — a  fierce  gluttony  of  love  regained. 

John  enfolded  her  close  in  his  strong  young 
arms,  against  his  throbbing  heart,  and  brokenly 
whispered  softly  and  abashed :  ' i  My  mother;  at 
last!— Oh!  God  is  good!" 

Disengaging  her  still-clinging  arms  and  plac 
ing  her  gently  upon  a  chair,  he  wheeled  about 
and  grasped  the  other  man 's  hand  with  his  own 
in  a  grip  that  hurt. 

6  '  Father— my  father !  Can  it  be  true  ?— Oh ! 
don't  deceive  me!  I  could  not  stand  it!" 

Mr.  Marotte  ran  his  hands  fondly  through 
the  boy's  thick  dark  hair,  and  with  his  warm 


THE  DENOUEMENT  353 

lips  set  the  seal  of  a  father's  recognition  and 
long-hoarded  love  upon  his  forehead. 

Gretchen  crept  closer,  a  great  dread  pnlling 
at  her  heart-strings  as  she  watched  this  pathet 
ically  glad,  tremendously  centered  reunion,  the 
three  participants  in  which  seemed  to  have  no 
thought  or  recognition  left  for  others  around 
them.  She  experienced  such  a  feeling  as  might 
engulf  a  lost  soul,  banished  without  the  pale 
of  Paradise  and  gazing  with  seared  eyeballs 
at  the  blessed  souls  within.  A  deadly  pall  of 
diffidence  and  doubt  seemed  to  be  enshrouding 
her.  She  did  not  speak — would  John  turn  from 
her  now  in  his  new-found  elevation  of  caste, 
he  now  heir  to  millions  and  she  but  the  humble 
daughter  of  a  German  brewer!  Ah !  she  had  not 
turned  away  from  him  when  her  own  star  was 
in  the  ascendency  over  his  and  he  had  believed 
himself  a  Negro !  How  true  the  bard  who  sang, 
"Love  of  man's  life's  a  thing  apart — 'tis 
woman's  whole  existence!"  As  her  thoughts 
thus  led  her  blindly  along  through  this  *  *  slough 
of  despond,"  she  swayed  on  her  feet  and 
clutched  at  the  nearest  arm — it  was  John's. 

He  swung  round  instantly  and  caught  her  in 
a  tender  embrace. 

"  Ah!  little  doubter,  I  can  read  your  thoughts. 
Your  eyes  are  an  open  book  to  me.  Heart  of 
my  heart  and  soul  of  my  soul  shalt  thou  be  for- 


354  ERIC  MAROTTE 

ever,  *  Little  Sunshine* — at  last  we're  met  no 
more  to  part!" 

"Mother!  father!  this  is  the  dear  little 
woman  who  clung  to  me  in  spite  of  all  that 
seemed  against  me;  who  has  loved  me  always, 
and  would  have  married  me  even  knowing  me 
to  be  a  Negro  except  that  I  forbade  the  sacri 
fice.  Kiss  her  lovingly  and  reverently  for  she 
will  soon  be  your  own  adored  daughter,  and 
God  has  never  made  another  like  her."  And, 
setting  a  "shining  example"  of  his  amorous  ad 
monition  on  her  drooping  eyelids  and  tempting 
lips,  he  handed  her  over  to  them. 

The  Christmas  entertainment  had  gone  on 
without  intermission  during  the  whole  of  this 
stirring  and  unusual  scene,  the  rest  of  the 
"company"  merely  showing  their  polite  curi 
osity  by  occasional  sidelong  looks  and  whis 
pered  questions  addressed  to  each  other  sotto 
voce. 

At  Mrs.  Hummelmueller's  invitation  "all 
hands"  now  began  to  gather  about  the  closed 
door  hiding  the  wonders  of  the  Christmas  tree, 
the  unlading  of  which  was  to  be  done  by  Mr. 
Hummelmueller  himself,  who  made  a  very 
chubby  and  nimble  little  Santa  Claus  in  his  full 
paraphernalia  of  "Saint  Nick." 

Soon  the  great  folding  doors  were  thrown 
back,  and  with  shrieks  of  delight  and  wondering 


THE  DENOUEMENT  355 

admiration  the  children  romped  into  the  fairy 
chamber  in  advance  of  their  elders.  Everyone 
present  had  been  remembered  with  some  taste 
ful,  amusing  or  useful  gift,  and  paper  wrappers 
and  covers  flew  about  as  they  undid  the  pack 
ages  amid  ejaculations  of  surprise  and  shouted 
thanks.  Then  came  the  Yule-tide  supper  and 
dance,  and  the  short  night  wore  away  in  un 
restricted  joys  and  happiness  unconfined.  The 
wonderful  good  news  of  John's  discovery  of 
and  recovery  by  his  true  parents,  was  imparted 
to  Gretchen's  father  and  mother  at  the  first  op 
portunity,  to  their  infinite  astonishment  and  de 
light,  and  John  hunted  up  Jim  and  Jemima  and 
presented  them  to  the  Marottes,  who  filled  them 
with  a  proud  pleasure  that  did  much  to  soften 
their  deep  sorrow  over  the  coming  parting  with 
John  they  now  knew  must  be,  by  their  profuse 
and  heart-disclosing  thanks  and  felicitations 
for  all  they  had  done  for  their  once  fatherless 
and  motherless  boy.  And  even  more  by  their 
promise  that  John  would  still  regard  them  as 
his  foster-parents  and  their  enthusiastic  predic 
tions  of  his  brilliant  future  in  his  new  life.  On 
the  morrow  the  Marottes  visited  the  Mannings' 
cottage  home  and  were  astounded  at  its  com 
forts  and  refinements.  The  little,  gold,  ruby-set 
locket  and  the  baby  garments,  found  on  John 
twenty-one  years  before,  were  shown  them,  and 


356  ERIC  MAROTTE' 

they  recognized  them  at  once,  thus  making 
John's  identification  perfect  and  complete,  ir 
refragable  and  beyond  all  peradventure. 

Mrs.  Marotte  wept  over  the  cruel  note  in  the 
locket,  and  it  was  destroyed  there  and  then. 
They  dined  there  at  noon  with  the  Mannings, 
Gretchen  and  John  and  enjoyed  it  immensely 
— the  latter  two  so  happy  they  could  scarcely 
eat  at  all.  Sudden  happiness,  like  great  grief, 
destroys  the  appetite. 

For  several  days  afterwards  John's  two 
mothers  met  continually  at  one  house  or  the 
other,  and  Mrs.  Marotte  never  grew  tired  of 
hearing  Jemima's  wonderful  stories  of  John's 
babyhood,  childhood  and  youthful  life  and  pre- 
cosities,  which  she,  his  rightful  mother,  had  so 
sadly  missed. 

At  breakfast  on  New  Year's  morning,  Jirn 
found  a  letter  addressed  to  him  lying  beside  his 
plate  on  the  dining-room  table  where  Jemima 
had  placed  it.  It  had  arrived  by  special  delivery 
during  Jim's  absence  from  the  house  the  night 
before,  and  John,  who  was  partly  in  its  secret, 
had  earnestly  requested  Jemima  not  to  let  his 
foster-father  see  it  till  the  New  Year,  as  it 
might,  very  probably,  contain  a  present  in 
tended  for  that  day.  Breakfast  was  ready 
early,  and  both  John  and  Jemima  had  taken 
their  seats  at  the  table  before  Jim  came  in  and 


THE  DENOUEMENT  357 

noticed  the  letter  waiting  there.  The  latter  sat 
down  at  the  head  of  their  modest  "  board "  and 
picked  up  the  envelope.  He  put  on  his  spec 
tacles  and  read  the  superscription  over  several 
times  in  some  perplexity. 

" Hello!  what's  this?"  he  exclaimed,  looking 
over  the  top  of  his  glasses  at  the  others,  in 
quiringly.  ' '  Some  fellow  must  be  in  a  prodigi 
ous  hurry  to  collect  his  monthly  bill  of  me — I 
wonder  who  it  can  be — sent  by  special  delivery, 
too!" 

He  broke  the  seal  with  his  table  knife  and 
drew  out  a  tinted  and  scented  double  sheet  of 
fine  paper  bearing  a  lozenged  crest.  Readjust 
ing  his  glasses,  he  read  aloud,  while  John 
"smiled  on"  knowingly  and  Jemima  sat  listen 
ing,  open-mouthed  and  flustered  by  all  this  mys 
tery.  The  contents  of  the  enclosed  note  were 
as  follows: 

"Chicago,  January  1,  19 — . 

"Dear  Friends  and  Benefactors: 

"May  we  beg  that  the  foster-parents  of  our  son,  John 
Manning,  will  accept  from  the  parents  of  our  son,  Eric 
Marotte,  with  their  sincerest  gratitude  and  loving  remem 
brance,  this  slight  memento  of  our  thanks  for  and  heartfelt 
appreciation  of  their  noble  guardianship  of  the  boy  we  each 
so  dearly  love? 

"Francois  Marotte", 
"Marie  Ingeborg  Ericsson  Marotte, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  James  Manning." 

Jim  removed  his  spectacles  and  clandestinely 
dabbed  his  eyes  with  his  napkin,  pretending  the 


358  ERIC  MAROTTE 

glasses  hurt  Mm.  A  flood  of  half  sad,  half  re- 
joiceful,  reveries  dimmed  the  eyes  of  his  wife. 
John  looked  unsatisfied. 

"Hand  me  that  envelope  for  a  minute, 
father,"  said  he.  He  held  it  up  to  the  light 
of  the  window. 

"Yes,  there's  another  enclosure  in  it,"  he 
mused,  handing  it  back.  Jim  mechanically  in 
serted  his  thumb  and  index  finger  in  the  en 
velope  and  pulled  forth  the  second,  single,  sheet 
enclosed.  He  put  on  his  glasses  again  and  slow 
ly  unfolded  it,  smoothing  out  its  creases  with 
his  big  hand.  As  he  perused  its  face  he  started 
in  sudden  astonishment,  then  silently  passed 
it  with  an  unsteady  hand  to  Jemima. 

It  was  a  check  on  the  Bank  of  Montreal 
drawn  to  the  joint  order  of  himself  and  his 
wife  for  twenty-two  thousand  dollars — one  thou 
sand  dollars  for  each  and  every  year  of  John's 
young  life,  up  to  the  time  he  became,  in  prac 
tice,  as  he  had  always  been  in  fact,  Eric  Marotte. 


CHAPTER  XX. 


PERORATION 

T  was  long  before  his  old  friends 
could  get  used  to  his  change  of 
appellation.  Eric  had  many 
deeply  interesting  and  signifi 
cant  talks  with  his  new-found 
father  and  mother  between  Christmas  and  New 
Years,  as  they  had  so  much  to  tell  each  other, 
and  such  an  experience  was  so  rare  that  they 
could  hardly  become  tired  of  it  quickly.  He 
learned  that  his  father,  Francois  Marotte,  was 
a  descendant  of  a  Bourbon  emigre  who  had  fled 
to  Canada  during  a  French  emeute  that  threat 
ened  both  his  life  and  his  estates.  That  his 
mother  was  the  granddaughter,  on  her  mother's 
side,  of  one  of  the  foremost  poets  and  philoso 
phers  of  the  Scandinavian  literati,  who  had  died 
possessed  of  little  else  except  undying  fame  and 
the  consciousness  of  leaving  the  literature  and 
hearts  of  his  countrymen  greatly  enriched  and 
expanded  by  the  genius  of  his  life. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Marotte  were  inordinately 
proud  of  their  son's  well-earned  achievements 
and  success  and  yet  more  greatly  set  up  by  his 
unlooked-for  refinement  and  cultivation  and 
educational  proficiency.  They  saw  that  they 

359 


360  ERIC  MAROTTE 

could  scarcely  have  done  better  by  him  them 
selves  than  he  had,  without  their  aid,  been  equal 
to  doing  for  himself;  nor  could  they  have 
chosen  or  imagined  a  truer  and  more  charming 
bride  for  him  than  Gretchen.  Blood  had  told. 

Eric's  engagement  to  Gretchen  was  imme 
diately  announced,  and,  as  the  latter  had  never 
been  a  debutante  at  a  regular  "coming  out" 
party,  the  Hummelmuellers  decided  to  give  in 
stead  a  "betrothal  ball"  for  her  and  Eric  at 
Chicago's  most  fashionable  dancing  academy, 
located  on  the  South  side  in  the  vicinity  of 
Twenty-third  street  and  Lake  Michigan. 

This,  the  most  important  event  of  that  social 
season,  came  off  on  the  last  day  of  the  year,  as 
a  sort  of  poetic  farewell  to  old  conditions  and 
greeting  to  the  new.  The  account  of  Eric's 
change  of  fortune  and  name  had  spread  rapidly 
over  the  city  before  the  date  of  the  ball,  and, 
true  to  their  ingrained,  natural  instincts  and 
breeding,  all  the  prigs  and  snobs  and  cads  of 
society  who  had  so  recently  and  deliberately 
turned  their  backs  on  him  as  John  Manning, 
the  alleged  illegitimate  Negro  foundling,  now, 
with  admirable  volte-face,  fell  over  each  other 
(metaphorically  speaking)  in  their  ridiculous 
efforts  to  ingratiate  or  re-establish  themselves 
in  the  good  graces  of  Eric  Marotte,  the  heir- 
presumptive  millionaire  and  the  affianced  hus- 


PERORATION  361 

band  of  the  most  beautiful  girl  in  Chicago,  heir 
ess  to  still  other  millions. 

When,  on  the  night  of  the  ball  itself,  Eric 
lead  Gretchen  from  the  ladies '  dressing  quarters 
into  the  great  dancing  hall  with  its  wax-pol 
ished  floor  and  hanging  balconies  and  its  arti 
ficial  candle-light,  there  was  an  instant  craning 
of  necks  and  rustling  of  skirts  and  skirmishing 
for  vantage  points  from  which  to  view  the  two 
most  talked  about  young  people  of  the  season; 
and  as  they  crossed  the  length  of  the  room  and 
came  slowly  back,  arm  in  arm,  to  their  station 
with  the  host  and  hostess  at  the  main  entrance 
to  the  floor,  so  striking  was  their  appearance 
and  manner  that  this  assemblage  of  the  * '  flower 
of  Chicago's  aristocracy"  almost  applauded. 

Then,  two  by  two,  as  the  animals  went  into 
old  Noah's  ark,  a  continuous  line  of  couples 
passed  by  them  to  make  their  best  devoirs  and 
to  meet,  with  mingled  curiosity  and  respect,  the 
respective  parents  of  the  hero  and  heroine  of 
Chicago's  greatest  and  most  baffling  historical 
romance. 

Gretchen  wore  decollete  for  the  first  time, 
and  her  beautifully-rounded,  evenly-fleshed  bare 
arms  and  shoulders  gleamed  dully  like  those  of 
a  Galatean  marble  quickening  to  the  breath  of 
love,  their  color  slightly  tinged  and  vastly  beau 
tified  by  that  extremely  captivating,  evanescent, 


362  BRIG  MAROTTE 

underlying  flush  so  rarely  seen  in  tawny  skins. 
Her  heavy  red-gold  hair,  the  despair  of  "coif- 
furers"  and  the  envy  of  every  female  heart, 
was  parted  over  the  centre  of  her  cool,  broad 
forehead  with  its  perfect  eyebrows,  and  held  in 
two  massive  waves  by  an  unjeweled  chaplet  of 
dull  gold  leaves,  from  which  it  was  drawn  back, 
partly  concealing  her  lobeless  ears,  and  fell 
thence  in  three  long,  unbraided  locks,  two  of 
them  brought  forward  under  her  ears  and  fall 
ing  over  her  tantalizing  shoulders,  the  other 
trailing  down  her  back. 

She  was  robed  in  a  loose  and  flowing  Empire 
ball-gown  of  deep-crimson  velvet  with  regal 
train,  that  accentuated  her  unusual  stature,  and 
the  opening  of  which  rested  below  each  of  her 
shoulders  in  a  Rococo  line  of  equal  height  at 
back  and  front,  its  upper  edge  trimmed  with  a 
wide,  oriental-looking  and  irregularly  outlined 
border  of  dull  pink  and  pearl,  which  gave  the 
needed  relief  of  worked  design  to  the  gown's 
rich  simplicity.  She  wore  no  jewels  at  all. 

Eric  had  never  seen  her  so  surpassingly 
lovely.  Her  wide-set,  fawnlike  eyes  between 
which  the  bridge  of  her  very  slightly  retrousse 
nose  widened  and  flattened  upward  to  form  its 
perfectly  curved  union  with  her  eyebrows,  a 
union  as  true  as  that  of  the  Venus  of  Milo ;  her 
delicately  chiseled  nostrils  above  a  cherry  lip 


PEKORATION  363 

like  Cupid's  bow;  her  strong,  round  chin  and 
the  slightly  flattened  oval  of  her  jaws;  her  won 
derful  teeth  that  dazzled  like  an  ever-changing 
vision;  the  firm,  round  domes  of  her  bosom  ris 
ing  and  falling  in  maddening  semi-view  below 
her  full,  clear  throat  and  tapering  neck;  her 
queenly  grace  and  carriage;  her  heavenly  smile 
— all  these  helped  to  give  to  her  a  tout  ensem 
ble  resistless  to  every  sense  of  love,  of  beauty, 
and  of  passion. 

Later  in  the  evening,  Eric  remarked  to  his 
new  mother,  half  ruefully,  half  humorously,  that 
"it  was  lucky  for  him  that  he  'saw  her  first' 
and  had  already  appropriated  her;  for  in 
twenty-four  hours  more  she  would  have  had  the 
whole  male  population  of  the  town  at  her  feet 
and  he  would  have  had  the  fight  of  his  life  on 
his  hands." 

Eric  himself  was,  fortunately,  one  of  that 
small  minority  of  men  who  wear  full-dress  like 
conventionalized  gods,  instead  of  appearing  in 
it  like  so  many  " Bully  Bottoms"  in  some  mod 
ernized,  mortal  Midsummer  Night's  Dream;  and 
his  former  premature  dignity  of  sorrow  was 
now  replaced  by  the  nobler  dignity  of  love. 

Madly  infatuated  with  her  as  Gretchen  knew 
him  to  be,  she  yet  looked  askance  at  the  ill-con 
cealed  glances  of  approval  with  which  the  rival 
beauties  tried  to  catch  his  eye. 


364  ERIC  MAROTTE 

The  "ball"  rolled  on  to  the  airs  of  waltz  and 
two-step  (this  was  before  the  decadent  days  of 
the  "turkey-trot,"  the  "grizzly  bear"  and  the 
"tango")  and  the  muffled  sound  of  busy 
spoons  and  forks;  and  so  the  old  year,  with  all 
its  heart-burnings  and  exciting  changes,  passed 
away  forever,  and  the  new  year  dawned,  amidst 
jangling  bells  and  tooting  horns  and  screaming 
whistles,  with  a  promise  in  it  all  their  own  for 
Eric  and  Oretchen. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Marotte  wished  the  marriage 
to  take  place  while  they  were  in  Chicago,  so 
they  could  carry  the  bride  and  groom  home  with 
them  to  Canada  for  their  honeymoon.  And  as 
a  long  engagement  was  out  of  the  question  any 
how,  under  the  circumstances  of  the  "affi- 
anceds '  ' '  already  perfect  understanding  of  each 
other  and  long  waiting  for  so  many  years  back, 
the  nuptial  ceremony  was  set  for  the  day,  Jan 
uary  seventh,  approaching,  just  one  week ' l  after 
the  ball  was  over." 

Deeming  the  publicity  gained  and  the  oppor 
tunity  given  society  to  greet  the  young  lovers 
already  sufficient  for  the  amenities,  the  con 
sensus  of  family  opinions  was  that  the  wedding 
should  be  a  simple  home  affair,  with  only  rel 
atives  and  a  few  intimate  and  old  friends  pres 
ent,  especially  as  another  reception  was  await 
ing  the  bridal  party  among  the  friends  of  the 


PERORATION  365 

Marotte's  in  Montreal.  It  was  arranged  that 
immediately  after  the  wedding  breakfast, 
Gretchen  was  to  don  her  traveling  costume  and 
depart  with  Eric  and  her  father-and-mother- 
in-law  for  their  Canadian  home. 

The  ceremony  was  celebrated  at  high-noon 
of  the  day  appointed;  and  as  Eric  and  Gretchen 
stood  together  before  the  officiating  man  of  God 
called  to  confirm  this  "  marriage  made  in 
Heaven,"  and  answered  the  momentous  ques 
tions  and  took  the  solemn  oaths  of  this  most 
impressive  service  of  the  church;  all  who 
watched  them  vowed  them  to  be  the  handsomest 
bridal  couple  they  had  ever  seen.  With  many 
fond  and  tearful  adieux  and  loving  parting 
wishes  and  commands,  the  Marottes,  who  had 
come  as  two  and  now  went  forth  as  four  in 
number,  were  escorted  to  the  two  waiting 
limousines,  and  whirled  in  them  to  the  railway 
station,  the  two  " bereaved"  families  following 
them  in  the  Hummelmuellers '  "coach  and 
two."  More  laughter,  tears,  embraces,  kisses, 
and  the  long  length  of  the  "Limited  Express" 
"pulled  out,"  serpentining  through  the  train- 
yard  amidst  the  waving  of  handkerchiefs  and 
the  last,  long,  lingering  looks  of  love. 

That  night,  alone  together  in  the  state-room 
of  the  palatial  "sleeper"  northward  bound,  Eric 


366  ERIC  MAROTTE 

and  Gretchen  reached  the  acme  of  their  happi 
ness,  so  long  deferred. 


And  here  I  reach  the  climax  of  my  story,  and 
turn  out  the  light. 

For,  he  who  still  proceeds  beyond  the  climax 
of  his  tale,  goes  down,  not  up,  the  long,  weary 
hill  of  entertainment,  in  but  a  vain  endeavor. 

Napoleon  said  at  St.  Helena,  "I  should  have 
died  at  Waterloo!" 

And  if  any  reader  deems  the  characters,  plot 
and  incidents  herein  depicted  and  recorded, 
lacking  in  verisimilitude  and  fecundity,  or  in 
essentials  of  the  higher  form  of  fiction ;  let  the 
disappointed  one  reconcile  these  things  as  best 
he  can;  but  remember,  that  I  could  not  make 
them  otherwise  if  I  would,  because  the  story's 
true  to  life,  and  I  am  simply  the  historian. 

As  to  the  motif  of  the  book,  I  have  read 
somewhere,  "It  is  the  mission  of  all  literature 
worth  while,  to  express  the  aspiration  of  the 
century  in  which  the  author  lives  and  has  his 
being,  towards  a  higher  and  juster  social  life; 
towards  the  gradual  coming  of  God's  kingdom 
on  earth — when  His  Will  shall  at  last  be  done 
on  earth  as  it  is  in  Heaven." 

AND  FURTHER  DEPONENT  SAITH  NOT. 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 


RENEWED  BOOKS  ARE  SUBJECT  TO  IMMEDIATE 
RECALL 


LIBRARY,  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  DAVIS 

Book  Slip-25m-6,'66(G3855s4)458 


N9  537381 


Pearce,  J,I« 

The  strange  case  of 
Eric  Marotte. 


PS3531 

E22 

S7 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


